The Trial of Lady Uther

The hall went silent with the woman's entrance. She was tall, nearly six feet, and she held her head high with a regal bearing. Her waist length honey blonde hair was pulled back into three tiers of curls, leaving a curtain of hair to curl about her neck and down her back. Her eyes were deep blue, and peered out from under long, soot black lashes. A dusting of pearl was swept across her lids. Her nose was long, and slender, sloping down to full lips. Her neck was long and slender, and led down to sloped shoulders. She wore a shimmering white dress that clung to her body, hugging bosom, waist and hips, flaring out in a long outer skirt that split in a V that widened to the hem, exposing a white velvet underskirt beneath. The dress was worked in blue embroidery, with a lowV-neck and pointed sleeves. Sapphires glittered at her wrists and neck, and in her hair. She dominated the room with her icy, elegant presence. She was the Lady Uther.

The hall bowed as one as she walked down the plush blue carpet. No one spoke a word, and their faces seemed set in stone. Lady Uther was silent as well, ignoring the courtiers and nobles that lined the long carpet she tread down. She walked proudly, with her back strait and her head high. The carpet ended at the foot of a dais, upon which rested three thrones. Two men and a woman sat an the thrones, all dressed in robes of black and gold. Lady Uther reached the end of the carpet and stopped, curtsying deeply.

"You are aware of the charges brought against you?" The man on the left of the dais asked.

"I am aware." Lady Uther did not rise.

"You are aware of the crime you have been accused of?" The man on the right side of the dais asked.

"I am aware."

"You are aware of the punishment you will receive if you are convicted?" The woman in the center asked.

"I am aware."

"Do you have anything to say in your defense?" The woman asked.

"I do." The Lady of Uther rose. "I am innocent. I have been falsely accused."

"Then how is it your husband was found dead of poison three nights ago?" The man on the left asked.

"Lord Maelin, I do not know how it is my husband came to be poisoned, but it was not by my hand."

"Then how is it traces of the poison were found among your possessions?" The man on the right asked.

"Lord Machean, I do not know how it is traces of the poison were found among my possession."

"Do you have any ideas as to how these things came to be?" The woman asked.

"I do, Lord Maegden. I am young yet, and new to the ways of the nobles, but my husband had many years on me. He had many years, and many enemies. I am of no importance. It would be simple for an enemy of my late husband to kill him, and blame

me. Even to go as far as to put evidence against me where it would easily be found. That is my idea as to how these things came to be."

"I see." Lord Maegden said, "In interesting supposition. The Court of the Primogent will retire to consider you words. You are dismissed."

Lady Uther bowed again, and turned on her heel. The hall was no longer silent. Excited whispers burst up on either side of the lady as she swept out of the hall. She ignored them. She made her way through the great marble corridors, to her room in the Primogent's Palace. Guards stood at her door, relaxed but armed. She ignored them as well, as she entered her room. They were little more than an inconvenience. Besides, they were as much to keep others out as the lady in. But she was considered dangerous, and that was well. She was dangerous. She had killed her husband, and she didn't regret it.

"That old fool got what he deserved." She muttered to herself as she sat down at a dark wooden desk. All her calm innocence was gone. In her private chambers she showed her true face, the face of a woman who would do whatever it took to get ahead. And the Lady Eylaesa de Uther intended to rise to Primogent.

The Court had seemed almost convinced of her innocence. Well, Lord Maegden, at least. It was quite believable that one of Sir Uther's numerous enemies had killed him. And Eylaesa was of little importance, save that she stood to inherit all of the Lord of Uther's property.

Eylaesa hadn't had the position of Primogent in mind when she killed her husband. She had wed him at the age of sixteen, with little say in the matter. She had endured for four years before she had found she could no longer take it. Sir Uther was more than twenty years older than her, and a large man who smelled of mead and sweat. And he had been determined that Eylaesa would produce a son, no matter what it took. Eylaesa grimaced at that memory.

I did what I had to, nothing else. The Primogent sees this matter as below him. That may work to my advantage. The matter will be looked into, and I will make sure there is evidence to support my story. Sir Halbrayn is staying at the Palace. It is well known he desire's my late lord's estate. If a bit of poison is found among his possesions...yes, that should direct any suspicion away from me. And I am young yet, and will soon be wealthy. I should have little trouble getting myself wed.

Eylaesa opened a drawer, and pressed on the bottom. A false panel popped out, and she pulled out the little bit of poison she had left. She smiled at it, holding it in her hand. Those small, black flecks were her link to freedom. Freedom from men, who would dominate her life, set her path for her.

Eylaesa tensed. She had heard a noise behind her, a soft creaking. She set the poison back in it's compartment, and turned around slowly. A man, garbed all in black was in her chamber, and was advancing towards her with a knife.

Eylaesa didn't scream. She leapt up from where she sat, just as the man lunged for her. She whirled around, pulling out the small knife she kept nestled between her breasts. The man had stumbled forward, but had quickly recovered. He lunged again, and his knife caught Eylaesa on the shoulder as she turned, high up where it joined her neck. She bit her lip to stifle a scream, and threw her knife. It struck the man between the eyes, and he fell as though his bones were water.

Eylaesa tensed, listening for any noise outside the door. None came. The guards had heard nothing, and that was to the good. Eylaesa could easily explain away an armed attacker, but not a dead one. She licked her lips and grabbed the corpse under the arms. Her wardrobe was open. Obviously the man had been hidden in there, awaiting her return. He would go back in there, to be found later in company. Eylaesa would claim ignorance of the dead man in her wardrobe, and there would be no way to disprove her.

Perhaps I had underestimated my position. She thought, frowning slightly. she had never considered the thought of an attempt on her life. Or had someone anticipated that she might be proven innocent? If so, then there was reason to kill her. She stood to inherit the Uther Estates, and though they were not vast, they were substantial.

I need to be more careful, and trust no one. Everyone is an enemy. She smoothed her gown, and returned to her desk. She pulled a sheet of paper, a pen and an ink bottle from a drawer. Perhaps I can kill two birds with one shot. She pulled a letter out of her pocket. It was nothing important, just a note, but it had been written by Sir. Halbrayn. Eylaesa patiently wrote out a letter, copying Halbrayn's hand exactly. It hinted at the involvement of another lord, one of Uther's distant relatives. The more lords Eylaesa could eliminate, the better. Especially those who stood to inherit if she was dead.

There. That should take care of that. I should be able to slip out tonight, and plant it on Halbrayn. Or Kai. Eylaesa stored the letter in her secret panel. No one would look there. Each lord had assigned rooms in the Primogent's Palace. It was then she realized she was bleeding. She found a small towel, and applied it to her wound. It was superficial, but it still hurt. After the bleeding stopped, Eylaesa stripped down to her shift and laid out on the bed. There was little to do now but wait.

***

Eylaesa awoke with a start. Her room was dark, and the hall outside silent. She slid out form under the covers and padded to the door, her bare feet making no noise on the thick carpet. She pressed her ear against the door, and heard nothing. She opened her wardrobe, momentarily forgetting the dead man stashed there. She stifled a gasp as he fell forward. She pulled out a black dress, carefully tailored to allow for easy movement. It was sleeveless, with long slits on either side of the skirt. She pulled back her long hair in a tail, and slipped into soft black leather boots. She slipped the note and the packet of poison into her pouch, and slipped silently out of the door. Both of the guards were asleep, slumped against the wall.

Eylaesa slid silently down the hall. The palace was silent, and no one walked the halls. It was later than Eylaesa had thought. Not even servants were out and about.

She found Halbrayn's quarters easily. She pressed herself against the wall, listening for voices or movement within. There was nothing. Eylaesa turned the door knob, and was relieved to find the door was unlocked. She slipped inside the room, and stopped, letting her eyes adjust to the dark. Though the rooms were all laid

out the same, each lord was allowed to decorate as they saw fit. Eylaesa was looking for a desk or something to slip the note into. What looked like a desk sat beneath a window on the far side of the room. Eylaesa walked slowly over to it, and felt around on the desk. It most likely had a secret panel somewhere. It took her a few minutes, but finally a panel sprung open with a pop. She froze, listening for movement. There was none. She slid the poison in the panel. The note would be harder to place.

Eylaesa held her breath. She hoped to slip the note into one of the lord's pocket's. That way, it would be very hard for Halbrayn to claim innocence. But the lord's clothing was in his bedroom. She slipped over to the door, and found it ajar. She walked softly in, and stared at the sleeping bulk of Halbrayn. He was breathing deeply and evenly. Eylaesa tiptoed over to the wardrobe, and opened it. It creaked, and Eylaesa sucked in her breath. Lord Halbrayn turned over, but that was all. Eylaesa's heart was beating rapidly. She slid the note into a random pocket and crept out as quickly as she could.

She collapsed against the door outside. She had been sure she was going to be caught. She went over everything in her mind again. There was no way anything could be traced back to her. She forced herself to relax, and breathe evenly. But she wasn't done yet. She still had to get back to her room without being seen.

She looked down the hallway, peering through the dim corridor. The few torches that were lit gave off little light. She stepped down the hallway, in the direction of her room. She hadn't moved ten paces before she heard footsteps behind her. She froze, not knowing what to do. She hadn't planned this far in advance, and the thought of being caught now terrified her. She flattened herself against the wall, between two torches. She wedged herself into the place between where the lights stopped. Hopefully, she would not be seen.

After a few seconds, a man walked into view. He was young, probably Eylaesa's age. He was tall, and dressed in a plain tunic and breeches. His curly dark blond hair, was cut short, and it was too dim to make out his features. But he looked out of place in the Primogent's Palace.

He passed by Eylaesa, and his gaze shifted towards her. His eyes widened at the sight of her. Eylaesa sucked in her breath and bit her lower lip. She had no explanation for what she was doing there. The young mans eyes passed over her, looking her up and down. He smiled slightly, and Eylaesa blushed a deep crimson. He inclined his head to her slightly, before walking on. After he was well down the hallway, she let out the breath she had been holding. It rushed out of her lungs, leaving her weak. She stood up strait, and hurried along to her room without further incident.

***

The sun crept across the bed, up the covers and over the pillow to fall on Eylaesa's face. She stretched lazily, rolling around in the large bed. Once, she and her husband had slept in that bed. Now it was hers, and hers alone.

She rose slowly, stretching and yawning. It had taken her a while to get to sleep after her expedition to Sir Halbrayn's chambers. But after her heart had stopped hammering, she was able to slip into an easy sleep. The council would most likely

reconvene today, after investigating all of Sir Uther's known enemies, and a few of those only suspected. The note and the poison would be found, and Eylaesa would be declared innocent.

All was going according to her plan. But the strange man in the hallway still nagged at her. He wasn't a servant. He hadn't walked like one. His head had been held high, and he was sure of foot. And he certainly hadn't been wearing any livery. He could have been a Lady's lover, but Eylaesa doubted it. No Lady would be fool enough to meet her lover in the Primogent's Palace. Besides, he had practically leered at her!

Eylaesa pushed the incident to the back of her mind. She had more important things to deal with. She wandered into her bathing chamber, a sprawling room with a great brass tub and firewood piled beneath it. Eylaesa frowned slightly. By right, a servant should have a fire lit beneath the tub by now. Just another subtle reminder that Eylaesa was a prisoner, not a guest. She picked up the flint, and lit a fire herself. She waited until the water steamed, then slipped into the warm water.

I wonder who he was... Eylaesa couldn't help thinking of the strange young man. Perhaps... Perhaps I was not the only one with ill intent last night. It's quite possible he was on an assassination mission of some sort. I hadn't thought of that. I wonder...

"My Lady?"

Eylaesa jumped, not expecting to be called upon this early.

"Who's there?" She called, not wanting to leave the rapidly heating waters.

"A messenger, from the Lord Maegden. The High Court of the Primogent is in session. They have been in recess all morning. No verdict has been reached, but the Lords fear you are not safe. There have been... Rumors. A bodyguard is to be assigned to you."

"I have no need of a bodyguard." Eylaesa snapped. A bodyguard would only hinder her.

"The Lords insisted."

"Have I no say in my own life?"

"Not at this point, my lady. I'm sorry."

"Humph." Eylaesa frowned. This was not what she had expected. She stepped out of her bath, and glanced around for a gown. Unfortunately, all of her clothes were in the other room.

"My lady?" The messenger called.

"Yes?" Eylaesa snapped.

"Would you please come out, as soon as decency allows?"

"Would you please take a proper tone with me?" Eylaesa said, forgetting her role as innocent, demure widow. "A servant should speak respectfully to his betters!"

"And a Lady should speak better to her protector."

Eylaesa froze, not quite believing her ears.

"My... What?"

"I am your bodyguard my lady. My name is Robayne Tristairn."

"Oh." Was all Eylaesa could say.

"Were you planning on coming out of the bath, Lady, or staying there all day?"

"I was planning on coming out, but I'm afraid I can't" Eylaesa said, wishing she had thought to bring at least a towel into the bath chamber. But she had expected to be alone in her rooms.

"And why not?"

"Because I have no clothes, and I will not come out without any."

"I see. I'll retrieve a gown for you. I assume they are in your wardrobe."

"Of course they're in my wardrobe!" She was fed up with the man already. There was silence for a while, and Eylaesa took that time to get out of the tub. She stood in the middle of her bath chamber, dripping wet and naked, wondering how this fit into her grand plan.

"My lady?" Robayne called.

"What is it now?"

"Are you aware of what is in your wardrobe?"

"Of course I'm aware of what's in my wardrobe! Clothes, shoes, slippers..." She trailed off, remembering the corpse. Her breath caught. She had to play innocent. "Why?"

"There appears to be something you did not put in your wardrobe."

"And that would that be?"

"A dead man." Robayne was rather calm about the whole thing. Eylaesa kept up her act.

"A what?"

"A dead body."

"Surely you jest."

"I'm afraid I don't."

Eylaesa gasped, and fell to the floor. Loudly. She waited a few moments-he wouldn't be so crude as to walk in on her-before getting up.

"Wha...how...?" Eylaesa stammered, nearly hysterically.

"Don't trouble yourself, my lady. I'll take care of it." Robayne said, and there were the sounds of a body being dragged across the floor, and Robayne speaking to the guards outside her door.

"My lady? Are you all right?"

"I...don't know. May I have my gown, please?" She kept her voice high and wavery.

"Of course." The door opened and a gown was passed through, a pale blue thing with a low off the shoulder neck and gold embroidery. She pulled it on, adjusting the full skirt and bodice. She crimped her hair with her hands, fluffing it and curling it. She tossed her head, and stepped out into her room. She nearly fainted for real.

"You!" Both Eylaesa and Robayne exclaimed at once. Robayne was dressed in a pale green tunic with black breeches and knee high black boots. His eyes were a light

green, flecked with brown. His face was open and friendly, and his hair was a dark curly blond. He was the young man from the night before.

"What are you doing here?" Eylaesa demanded. "I mean, who are you?"

"I could ask you the same, but I think I know the answer to that." Robayne said, grinning openly. Eylaesa glanced to the door, and saw it was shut tight. She lowered her voice.

"You are to say nothing of what you saw last night, do you understand?"

"My lady, I understand perfectly. But...why?"

"Why what?" Eylaesa asked, wondering when her plans had flown out of her hands.

"Why did you kill your husband?"

"There has been no sentence passed."

"My lady, forgive me for speaking freely, but it is obvious-at least to my eye-that you did kill him."

"And what evidence do you have? Isn't it conceivable that one of my husband's enemies killed him. Isn't that more conceivable than his wife turning against him?"

"Sometimes my lady, what is most obvious is least likely. I don't claim to fully understand politics, I never have, but I have a rudimentary knowledge of conspiracy. It doesn't matter one wit to me whether you killed him or not. I am simply here because Lord Maegden ordered it."

"Fine, but you will obey me, and you will not question me, or my actions. All you need to know is that if I've killed once, I may not be adverse to doing it again."

"I don't doubt that. What you do is what you do. I'm only here to protect you. I have no other instructions but those."

"I see." Eylaesa eyed Robayne as openly as he had eyed her the night before. He was tall, and looked well muscled under his shirt. "I hope you are up to the task."

"You needn't worry." Robayne assured her. "Now I will ask. Who was the man in the wardrobe?"

"You know as well as I. He attacked me yesterday. He's dead now. That's all I know." She shrugged. "It appears I have made an enemy."

"More than one, I can assure you. You killed him yourself? I'm impressed. It was a clean kill. I can assume that scratch on your neck came from him? Or were there others, last night?"

"What did I tell you about last night? It never happened. Yes, it was from him."

"You are a mystery. They're investigating the late lords enemies. Whatever evidence there is will be found today."

"I see. What were you doing last night?" Eylaesa asked.

"Last night? I thought it never happened." Robayne grinned, a wicked gamin grin. Eylaesa felt her blood begin to boil.

"Only in the open." Eylaesa said, through clenched teeth.

"Of course. I was simply getting a layout of the palace. You never know when a quick escape will be necessary."

"You anticipate a need for escape?"

"One never knows. Considering the corpse in your wardrobe..."

"Yes well, that doesn't matter, as I put it there. Not that you're to tell anyone that, of course."

"Of course."

"I'm going for a walk in the garden. You may accompany me, if you wish."

"I will accompany you whether you wish or not." Robayne reminded her. "I am your bodyguard."

"Hmm." Eylaesa said, lifting her skirts and sweeping out of her room, Robayne close on her heels.

Insufferable man! Eylaesa thought to herself. Incompetent, offish, insufferable man. I cannot believe I'm saddled with him! It simply is not fair. I have a plan, and Robayne does not enter into it. At all. I will be Primogent. Robayne cannot be at my side at all times. I will be able to slip away from him, sometime. He's only a man. it shouldn't be that hard...

"My lady, look out!" Robayne called, as Eylaesa was thrown to the ground.

"What re you doing, you, you...man!" Eylaesa exclaimed, struggling under Robayne.

"saving you're life, that's what." Robayne said, lifting himself up, and reaching down a hand to Eylaesa. She ignored it, and stood up, brushing herself off.

"You have no right to lay your hands on me! I am a lady!"

"And you would have been a dead lady, if it weren't for me." Robayne grasped Eylaesa's chin and turned her head to look at the dagger embedded in the wall. "That would have been in your skull."

"Oh." Eylaesa said, refusing to acknowledge that Robayne had saved her. She gave her skirts a final tug, tossed her head, and continued walking.

"You are not invulnerable, my lady." Robayne said, still trotting behind her. "You can die, as easily as the next woman. You'd do good to watch out."

"And you do good to hold your tongue."

"As you wish, my lady." Robayne said, shrugging. If I hadn't been so occupied thinking about him, I would have realized I was in danger. It's all his fault. And to throw me to the ground like that!

"That was the second attempt on your life, in as many days." Robayne said quietly. Eylaesa sighed, but did not turn. As if I didn't know that. I can take care of myself. I am no child, just out of the cradle. But this time there was simply a weapon, and no assassin...Eylaesa paused, her eyes scanning the garden. It was inside the palace, as nothing could grow in the freezing waste that surrounded the Primogent's Palace. The foliage was thick, and a man could easily hide in it. And a failed assassin would likely try again.

"What is it?" Robayne asked, hovering close.

"I have a stone in my slipper." Eylaesa said, slightly loudly. "Would you help me?" She lifted her skirts slightly, and raised her leg, proffering a dainty foot. Robayne looked at her oddly, suspicion coloring his eyes.

"It's a small stone, but it hurts terribly." Eylaesa continued. "It's right in the center. It must have gotten in there when you...saved me." It took an effort to keep her voice sweet.

"Of course." Robayne was still suspicious, she could tell. But he knelt, and took her foot. She kept her eyes on the foliage. There! She saw a flash of movement. A man came charging out of the underbrush. Eylaesa whirled her foot around and kicked her assailant in the chest. As he fell, she shot out a fist that caught him in the jaw. She shook her head triumphantly as he fell to the ground. But her triumph lasted only a moment. As she turned to speak to Robayne, a sword sliced down towards her, ripping along her arm, from shoulder to wrist..

Pain, hot and shocking laced through her. She stared at the blood that poured from the wound, and she felt light headed. She stood there, dazed, as the palace guards flooded the garden.

"Are you all right?" She was dimly aware of Robayne speaking to her. "Lady Uther!"

"It...hurts." Eylaesa gasped. She could hardly breathe. She didn't know whether it was from the pain or the blood.

"Someone fetch the palace surgeon!" Robayne called. "The lady is wounded."

"It...hurts." Eylaesa said again, her voice small. The world was spinning around her, pulsing in and out. The world tipped, and spun, and she was being held by strong arms. The world came and went, and so did the pain. And then the world was black.

***

"...out of nowhere."

Eylaesa came awake to the sound of a man speaking. Her arm hurt, and she was in a bed. She sat up slowly, and looked around.

"Lady." Robayne said, rushing to her bed. "You're awake."

"Yes, I'm awake." She said, feeling faint.

"Ah, Lady Uther." It was the court. They stood at the foot of her bed.

"My Lords." She said, trying to bow.

"There is no need." Maegden said. "While you were unconscious, an investigation was made."

"Oh, good." Eylaesa couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I believe you will be interested in what was found."

"Oh?"

"The identity of the killer of your husband has been cemented. The court has passed sentence."

"Yes?" Eylaesa wondered what was taking them so long. Unless...No! I covered my tracks, I know I did. I think I did...

"Sentence has been passed upon...Lord Halbrayn and Lord Kai. Evidence was found that supported your theory, and an incriminating note was found on the person of Lord Halbrayn. Odd, but they claimed as you did. No matter. They will be beheaded, as fits murderers. I am glad to inform you of this good news."

"Thank you..." Eylaesa mumbled. It worked. I didn't really think...

"I would recommend you keep Robayne with you, Lady. He seems to have proven invaluable." Lord Maegden nodded to Eylaesa, and led the court out.

"You are a clever woman." Robayne said, smiling at her.

"And you would do well to remember that."

"Then you intend to allow me to protect you?"

"Perhaps."

"I see. And what is your next move?"

"Recover. and find out who wishes me dead so strongly."

"A wise decision."

"Hmm. But remember, I don't need you. You may stay on as long as you amuse me and stay out of my way."

"Of course. You would do well to rest up. Good day, my lady." Robayne grinned, and swept a bow-Eylaesa couldn't tell if it was mocking or sincere-and swept out of the room.

Eylaesa laid back on her pillows. Perhaps my plans are not as lost as I had thought. And perhaps Robayne will prove useful...Still weak from her injury, Eylaesa drifted off into a peaceful sleep, blissfully unaware of the path that was now unfolding before her.

Chapter Two

Strange Beginnings

The Lady Eylaesa Uther stretched lazily in her large bad, writhing beneath the sheets and wishing she could go back to sleep. She had returned to her late husband's estate, following her trial. She had been accused of murdering her husband-and had been proven innocent-but not after three attempts on her life. A well known enemy of the late Sir Uther had been found guilty, along with Sir Uther's cousin. Both had been beheaded in the courtyard in front of the Primogent's Palace. Eylaesa had not been able to attend the execution, as she was still recovering from an injury. She was actually rather glad she did not have to attend the execution. Only she and her bodyguard Robayne knew the truth: that she actually had killed her husband. and planted the evidence against the other two lords. Eylaesa had her eye on the Primogent's throne.

"My lady?" Came a hesitant knock at the door. It wasn't Robayne, thankfully. he would never knock. Robayne was, in Eylaesa's opinion, the most insufferable man to ever walk the earth. And she was stuck with him.

"Yes?" Eylaesa called, sitting up in bed.

"You requested you be awakened an hour after the sun had risen."

"Oh. Thank you. Would you have a maid bring me breakfast, please? Some spiced porridge and fruit, with milk. Thank you." Eylaesa slipped back down onto her pillows.

"Of course my lady. Your breakfast will be here right away." Eylaesa could hear the servant scurrying away. She had unnaturally acute hearing, but had always simply taken it for granted. She rose, her long white sleeping gown trailing out behind her. She wrapped a white velvet robe around her and wandered over to the large window and balcony that overlooked the estate. She enjoyed looking out over the lush fields and rolling hills of the Uther lands. Small white sheep dotted the fields in the distance, and tall, thick trees covered the hills. The estate's main produce was wool and lumber.

"Breakfast, my lady." A man called, opening the door and wheeling in a try. Eylaesa didn't even bother chastising Robayne, as she knew it would do no good. The man simply did not know how to follow orders.

"It's not enough." Eylaesa said, gazing at her lands. They were large, but still only the estates of a knight.

"What isn't enough?" Robayne asked, standing next to her.

"This." She swept a hand over the land. "I want more."

"Ah, yes. The Primogent's throne. You have a ways to go yet, till you qualify for Primogent." Robayne reminded her.

"I'm aware of that. That is why I need more. I am no longer content to sit and do nothing while my enemies plot against me. I must take the offensive, not the defensive. I am not a partridge on a branch, waiting for a stone."

"And just what is it you propose to do? And would you sit, our porridge is getting cold. I took the liberty of requesting my breakfast as well. "

"I don't know what to do." Eylaesa admitted, sitting in a plush velvet chair. Robayne wheeled the tray over, and sat across from her.

"To best all of your enemies-they are numerous-you will have to be cunning, cruel, hard, resourceful and above all: powerful. Your skill with knives and fists is applaudable, but that will not take you far." Robayne paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth. "You aren't ready."

"And what, pray tell, must I do to be ready?"

"You need an army, and devout followers. You need skill with sword, bow and any other weapon imaginable, to do what you plan. And that still might not be enough."

"Why not?" Eylaesa demanded.

"Because. Things are not as they were. The rulers are all divided. Each one rules his lands and has nothing to do with the others. The Kings ignore the Lords, the Lords ignore the Dukes, the Dukes ignore the Knights, and they all strive to be better than they are. They kill one another with hardly a thought, and trust no one. They have all formed their own inner-governments, and rule as they see fit. The Primogent-for some unknown reason-alows this, as long as it doesn't interfere with his authority, or lack there of as it is at this point. And then there are those who have no title, but land and power in their right. You must gain either the trust or fear of them all. And you plan to do that with nothing more than a few knives and one man?" Robayne stared at her, aghast. "You astound me."

"And you insult me, but that is irrelevant. I will find some way to band them to me. It was done in the past, was it not?"

"Yes, but times were different then. The Primogent had power than, and real authority. The land was united, and stood together."

"Why is it so different know?"

"You ask questions to which I have no answers. It is rumererd-note I say only rumored- that the Primogents of old had great powers."

"Powers? What sort of powers?" Eylaesa asked, perking up.

"Oh, impossible things, calling down lightening and other such nonsense. But it's all legends."

"But all legends have a foot in fact, don't they?"

"Well, in some forms, I suppose." Robayne shrugged. "Why?"

"Well, what if the ancient Primogents could call lightening? Or even something on a lesser scale. Even just making sparks in their hands!"

"My lady, you must jest. It is purely fictitious."

"But what if it isn't? There may be records, documents. Forget about weapons, Robayne!"

"You are ready to rush through a den of vipers to reach a treasure you don't even know will be there. Put from your mind anything I've told you about the Primogents."

"No, Robayne. You know something, something you aren't telling me. What is it?"

"It is none of your concern."

"It is my concern, and I order you to tell me!" Eylaesa was getting upset.

"No." Robayne said, pushing away his bowl. "You're talking foolishness, my Lady. Foolishness I cannot condone."

"You are not here to condone, Robayne. You are here to protect me, remember? Those are your only orders."

"And if I believe that something may be harmful to you, I will forbid it."

"You cannot forbid me! I am your better!" Eylaesa had trouble keeping her voice down. The insolence of the man, to forbid me! What right does he have? None!

"If I must bind you and sit on you, don't think that I won't. What you are considering is dangerous."

"There's something you're not telling me, isn't there? I can tell. What is it Robayne?" Eylaesa asked. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he knew something. "No, my Lady. You told me once I would do well to hold my tongue. I believe I will take your advice."

"Get out." Eylaesa said, her voice dangerously calm and cold. "There is no danger to me here, and you have overstepped yourself."

"I am not your servant my Lady, but I will remove myself, of my own accord. I have no wish to remain in a room with you." My bowed mockingly, and stormed out of the room. Eylaesa, in a fit of rage, threw her porridge bowl at the closing door.

He makes me so...angry! I wish he would simply walk of the face of existence! What is he hiding? If he won't tell me, I'll simply find out for myself. There must be records, histories. How else could Robayne know? Unless someone told him, but then they would have to find out from somewhere. Perhaps this is a more difficult task than I thought Eylaesa quickly shoved that thought away. No! If I wish to become Primogent and unite this blasted land, I cannot balk as soon as the path gets a bit steep. I must walk on, if cautiously, and not look over the edge. If there are records, they are in a library. If they are records on the Primogents, they are in the Primogent's Palace. I will need an excuse to travel to Adanac.

Eylaesa frowned slightly, trying to puzzle out a plan in her mind. The Primogent's Palace was the largest structure in the known world. It had enough rooms to house everyone who had a title, the mass of servants who worked the palace, plus many that had no apparent purpose. It sat at the base of a large mountain, surrounded by a wasteland of snow and ice. The Primogent and the High Court presided over the land from the Palace. Or they had. Now, Primogent was little more than a fancy title, a figurehead. The man himself did little. Even when Eylaesa had been on trial, he had not been involved. In fact, Eylaesa couldn't even bring his face to her mind. She wondered who could. Once, the Primogent had ruled over all the cities and estates with an iron fist, but no longer. The world was falling apart, and there seemed little anyone could do to stop it.

I will stop it. Eylaesa told herself. No matter what it takes, I will bring the land together again. But it would be difficult to do by herself. She sighed, and got dressed as quickly as she could. She was determined not to lose a moment.

"You're not going alone." Robayne was waiting outside her chambers.

"I thought you had left."

"I left your room, but I was not going to leave you completely. I cannot protect you if I'm not close to you."

"I don't care. I have no need of you." Eylaesa attempted to sweep by Robayne, but he kept right at her side, matching her step for step.

"You most certainly do."

"I can handle myself, and you are well aware of that."

"Against one man, yes. But I saw what happened when you faced two. You acquired that fetching scar on your arm. And that one on your neck from a single man, if I recall correctly."

"And you have come out of every battle unscathed?"

"No, but I'm in better shape than you." Robayne did not seem mocking, simply factual.

"Well, I am younger than you and have had less experience."

"You think you are younger than me? My lady, you are my elder. By two years."

"What?" Eylaesa missed a step. She had assumed Robayne to be in his early twenties, placing him a few years older than her. To find he was only eighteen...

"Is there a problem my lady?"

"No, of course not." Eylaesa clenched her teeth. "If you insist upon tagging along, you might as well be useful. Go and fetch our horses, I don't want the servants to know of our destination. I don't know who can be trusted."

"And when they find you have disappeared without explanation?"

"It would not be odd. I will leave word with my hand maiden that I will be away from the estate for an indeterminate amount of time. That should take care of things. Now fetch our horses."

"Yes, my lady." Robayne shook his head and stalked off in the direction of the stables. Eylaesa didn't like the tone Robayne had been taking lately. He had to learn that she was his superior, not his equal.

"Insufferable man." Eylaesa grumbled, returning to her room to pack a travel case. She continued her grumbling, shoving gowns and boots and the like into her case, along with a few breeches and tunics, just in case. She heard her door open, and someone enter her room. Eylaesa whirled on Robayne, angrily.

"I thought I told you to fetch the..." There was no one there. Eylaesa froze, her eyes scanning the room. She had heard-very clearly-the door open and someone, a man from the sound of it, walk in. But her eyes told her there was no one. She bent, and slid a knife out of her boots. If there was someone there, she would be ready. But moments passed, and no one appeared. Eylaesa chastised herself for being such a fool, left a note for her hand maiden, and hurried to meet Robayne at the stables.

***

Who does she think she is? Robayne wondered, securing a girth on the Lady Uther's white gelding. Ordering me around as though I were some servant. Someone ought to give her a good switching.

Robayne had been in the service of the Lady Uther for a a little over a month, and she had not seemed to warm to him in the least. If anything, her tongue had grown harsher. What does she know of me? Nothing. Not as though she showed an interest, or even cared. She sees me as a...I don't even know what. But because she is of 'noble blood' she must be my better. I have never met a narrow minded woman...

"Don't just stand there, I mean to be off as soon as possible!" The Lady Uther dominated the small stable as though she were standing in the grand hall of the Primogent's Palace. She was dressed in a snug green velvet gown, with a deep V-neck, full pleated skirt and gold scrolled embroidery. Her shoulder length blond hair was pulled back in a finely woven gold net, and a choker of emeralds embraced her neck. She really was a beautiful woman, or would be if she weren't constantly scowling.

Robayne didn't answer her, but simply handed her her horse's reins. That upset her, but he didn't care. He finished saddling his own horse, and mounted. Lady Uther was still standing on the floor, glaring at him.

"What now?" He asked, not feeling like indulging the noblewoman.

"The packhorse! DO you expect it to saddle itself?"

"No. You have two arms, and legs. Saddle him yourself."

"How dare you!" The lady was outraged.

"Quite easily, actually. Why are you standing there? I thought you wished to be off?" Robayne grinned, and instantly regretted it. The look in the Lady Uther's eyes was a dangerous one. He had forgotten for a moment that this was a woman who had killed her husband, various attackers, and arranged for the executions of two other men, all with hardly a thought. He had no doubt that she would as soon put a knife through him as speak to him.

"I'll saddle the pack horse." He said, slipping down and arranging the supplies on the sturdy grey horse. The Lady Uther watched him with a cold eye from the seat of her horse. When he was done, he tied the lead rien to his own saddle, and climbed onto his light brown mare.

"Finally. We will have to ride fast to make up for this delay." The Lady Uther sniffed, and turned her horse out of the stable. Delay? It was hardly more then ten minutes! The woman wishes nothing more than to get my goat!

"My Lady, it will take little over a week to reach the Primogent's Palace."

"Are you questioning me?" Eylaesa turned her head, and Robayne cursed himself. Don't anger the murderess, he reminded himself.

"No my lady." He said, wishing he had never agreed to guard this woman. He remembered his meeting with Lord Maegden quite well:

"This woman is in danger."

"The one who killed her husband?"

"There is little proof of her guilt, and greater proof of her innocence. And either way, it does not matter. Innocent or guilty, she will walk free."

"But why? I know I am simply a foreigner, but I had rather assumed justice was the same anywhere."

"Sir Uther drank often, and was angered by Eylaesa's inability to conceive. It has been whispered he beat her, as punishment."

"Why?"

"Why did she kill him, or why did he beat her? The first is obvious, the second perhaps only to a woman. I imagine Uther saw his wife's inability as reflecting on him. And he was a drunkard."

"No, why is she in danger?"

"Because she is a wealthy woman in a position of power, and perhaps for other reasons."

"Other reasons?"

"No matter. I wish you to protect her. No matter what transpires, you are to protect her. Do whatever you must, but do not let her come to harm. Those are your only instructions."

"But protect her from what? From who?"

"That is of no consequence. You are simply to protect her. Go now. I have much to do."

Robayne shook his head. The meeting made no more sense now than it did, except that perhaps Lord Maegden had some idea of Eylaesa's plan to become Primogent. And even then, it didn't explain why he was supposed to protect her. Fool women, sticking her nose where it doesn't belong. It would serve her right to get a knife in the back.

"Hurry up, Robayne. You've fallen behind. I'm not going to wait for you. If you drop so far behind you become lost, I will not stop."

"Not even for your gowns and jewelry?" Robayne muttered under his breath.

"Gowns and jewelry can be replaced!' Eylaesa growled, "And so can you!" She kicked her horse, and it cantered off up the trail. Robayne shook his head in wonder.

How in the world did she hear me? She's so far ahead... Robayne sighed, and spurred his horse and the packhorse on after the Lady Uther.

Horrible, nasty, self involved man! Eylaesa tiraded to herself. Just who does he think he is? He knows nothing of me, as though he ever cared. As long as the Court keeps his purse full. What does he think I am? He thinks because he knows I've killed, I am some sort of cruel, hard hearted murderess? I am no monster, I am simply trying to... But that was just it. Eylaesa wasn't sure exactly what it was she was doing. Trying to become Primogent, yes. Trying to unite the land, yes. But why? It wasn't just the power anymore. Somehow, hearing of the way the world had once been had sparked something in Eylaesa. A desire to make things better. The thought that petty, self involved men were in control disgusted her. If her husband was any judge of the character of noblemen...Eylaesa shuddered. Sir Hubreht Uther had been a hard, cruel man. He had ruled his estate and small village with an iron will, and had believed in ruling by fear. Everyone feared him, especially his young wife. She had come to her husband full of defiant spirit and angry fire. But a strong wife was not what Hubreht had in mind. He had sought to break his wife's spirit, and crush her fire. He had done it the only way he knew how, with fists and threats.

I did as I had too. Eylaesa consoled herself. Hubreht was an evil man, and not just to me. He taxed the life out of the villagers, and beat the servants on many occasions. No one will miss him.

Tears were starting at the corners of Eylaesa's eyes, but she choked them back, refusing to show weakness, even to herself. Her stallion was of war horse stock, and built for speed and endurance, and she had already left Robayne far behind. Eylaesa was lost in her own mind, and she didn't even realize that she had strayed off the path and into the forest until it was too late.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" A man dressed in soft greens and browns stepped out of the foliage and in front of Eylaesa's stallion, The horse reared, snorting at the sudden appearance of a stranger under his nose. The man was medium height, with curly brown hair, tanned skin and brown eyes. He wore a sword at his hip, and looked rather young. "It looks like a high born lady to me."

"You are correct." Eylaesa said, wondering who the strange man was. "I am the Lady Uther."

"Uther?" The man sneered, grabbing her horses reins. "Your lord's the reason I lost my land. I bet he'd pay a hefty price to get his pretty bride back."

"Sir Uther will pay nothing." Eylaesa said, not frightened in the least.

"Oh, he won't? I know I'd pay to get you back."

"It has little to do with me. Sir Uther is dead, poisoned by his cousin and a rival knight. Both men were beheaded. You can release me now."

"I think not." The man said, tightening his grip. "I'm sure someone will pay for you, either to get you back or keep you away. You're coming with me." He hauled on her horses reins, tearing them out of her grip. White hot fury shot through Eylaesa. How dare he! I am the Lady Uther!

"Unhand my horse, you cur!" She shouted, kicking out at the man.

"You'd best behave, or you'll find my company less than pleasant." The man warned, pulling out a long, slightly tarnished sword.

"I don't care about your company, as I won't be sharing it." Eylaesa whipped a knife out of her boot and flung it at the man. He sidestepped easily, and the knife clattered to the ground.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." The man said, his voice turning cold. Eylaesa looked closer at his sword, and realized it wasn't tarnished at all, rather it was stained with blood.

"Let go of me! Please!" She snapped, not really knowing what else to say. Where is Robayne? Isn't he supposed to be protecting me? He's rather botching the job, if you'd ask me. I'm in real danger!

"I'm sorry, but I told you why I'm not going to. You could mean a title for me."

"If you let me go, I'll give you a title myself. I'll give you my lands, if that's what you want!" Eylaesa kept talking, willing Robayne to show up.

"You're lands? And leave you with what?"

"That doesn't matter, but I swear, if you release me, I will give you my lands. It may not be immediate, but you will have them. Within a year."

"A year?" The man laughed. "And I'm supposed to believe you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because...well, because I'm speaking the truth. If all goes as I foresee, I will have little use for a position ruling over sheep and trees."

"If all goes as you foresee? Forgive me if I don't trust you, but your argument is less than convincing."

"Come with me, if you must. I would welcome the help." Eylaesa held her breath, watching the bloodstained sword.

"Come with you where?"

"To the Primogent's Palace, and the library there."

"Why the library?"

"I'm looking for records, documents, histories. Anything that would help me. And if you come, you can hold me to my word."

"Hmm." The man looked at her intensely for a long while before finally sheathing his sword. Eylaesa let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. "all right, it appears you've acquired some company, and a bit more than you had planned on. Come out, all of you!"

"All of you?" Eylaesa repeated, stunned, as three young men emerged from the forest. They were all dressed in brown, and had the look of farm boys about them.

"I'm Samuel Huwin, and these are my... colleagues. The short one there's Mathwin, the tall one's Myke, and the one with the thick eyebrow's Joss."

"Er, hello." Eylaesa said. "A pleasure to meet you, I'm sure. What are you doing out here?" She blurted out.

"You're husband drove us off our lands." Mathwin said. "We had to become outlaws."

"Don't tell her we're outlaws!" Myke admonished, shushing Mathwin. Joss just stood there laughing at the other two.

"I couldn't care if you were three headed cows." Eylaesa said, quite truthfully. "If you're all coming with me, I expect you to make yourself useful."

"Of course!" Mathwin said, looking happy to please. Myke and Joss looked just as cheerful. These are men-boys!-who lost their land to my husband, but show no fear at allying themselves with me. Well, except for that Samuel.

Samuel's face did not hold the same pleased expression as his friends. He looked a bit disgusted.

"My Lady!" Eylaesa heard someone gasping behind her, as Robayne pulled his horse to a stop behind her. She had forgotten about her bodyguard. Of all the inept men...

"Robayne, I expect you to be able to keep up with me. I don't like having to stop and wait for you."

"Wait for me? But you..." A frosty glare from Eylaesa silenced him. She flashed the same icy gaze on Samuel, in case he felt like relaying what had just transpired.

"Robayne, you had but one simple instruction. Protect me. You failed. I was attacked by bandits, and in fear for my life. Where were you wile I was being accosted? You weren't here. I was forced to trust my life to the hands of strangers, who luckily proved quite competent. A bodyguard who fails to guard will soon find his position given to one more capable."

"I apologize my lady." Robayne lowered his head, and Eylaesa couldn't tell if it was in humbleness or simply to avoid her gaze, and she didn't care.

"Apology accepted. Samuel and his friends will be accompanying us to the Palace."

"They will what, my lady?" Robayne asked.

"Accompany us. They are elated at the news of my husbands death, and the end to his tyranny, and are quite eager to pledge themselves to me."

"Really?" Robayne looked less than believing, looking specifically at Samuel.

"Oh, yeah." Mathwin said, before Samuel could silence him. "We'll pledge, right Myke?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah."

"Can I pledge to?" Joss asked, looking as if he had just realized what was going on.

"You see? Already I have loyal subjects." Eylaesa tossed her head, feeling quite proud.

"What about you?" Robayne asked. "Are you ready to pledge your life and soul to her?" He put a slight emphasis on her that Eylaesa didn't like.

"Me?" Samuel asked. "I'm pledged to myself, thank you very much."

"Are we going to stand here chatting, or are we going to the Primogent's Palace?" Eylaesa demanded.

"To the Primogent's!" Joss shouted out, lifting a rusty shovel into the air. "Uh, where's the Primogent's?"

"Loyal subjects, hmm?" Robayne asked, leaning in close so only Eylaesa could hear. "They're a rag tag lot. That short one looks like a weasel, the tall one could most likely hardly hold his own in battle, and I wouldn't be surprised if that one," he jerked his head to Joss, still waving his shovel around, "had been kicked in the head by a horse in his youth."

"Robayne! You should truly be ashamed of yourself. They may not have been raised as nobles, but they are good, strong men."

"Men? They can't be older than me. I'd doubt if that little one's even shaving yet."

"Uh, I thought you wanted to stop talking and go to the Primogent's?" Mathwin asked, looking confused. "We don't need anything."

"We don't have anything." Myke confessed.

"Thanks to Sir Uther." Samuel snapped. He was holding the reins of three horses and a donkey.

"Yes, well, he's dead." Eylaesa said, gathering up her reins. "And the day grows short. I wish to be in North Haven by suns down."

"To the Primogent's!" Joss yelled again, leaping into the saddle of the donkey.

"To the Primogent's!" Mathwin and Myke echoed, raising a scythe and a pitchfork. All three spurred their mounts and galloped off in the direction of North Haven.

"You'd better make good on your promise, Lady." Samuel sneered, following the three boys. Robayne gave Eylaesa an odd look, but said nothing.

"After you, my lady." He said, inclining his head to the path, which was not as far off as Eylaesa had thought. She spurred on her horse, following after her small entourage. The wind whipped by her face, and she felt thrilled, and frightened, and a little proud. She realized she had no idea where she was going to end up, but she knew now that road was not going to be smooth. And she wouldn't want it any other way.

Accusations

The road seemed to stretch on forever, disappearing somewhere into the horizon. It was not a large road, simply a wide strip of dirt, stomped flat by hundreds of feet and hooves, and surrounded on either side by dense forest. A small party of six travelers, five on horseback and one on a donkey, made their way down the road.

"And just how long before we reach this village of yours, Samuel?" The Lady Eylaesa Uther asked her reluctant guide.

"It's not my village, it's yours. Supposedly. The villagers pay their tithe to the Uthers." Samuel grumbled, not bothering to look back.

"Then they should be more than happy to give us a room for the night. I abhor sleeping on the ground, and we could all do with a good cooked meal inside us." Eylaesa tossed her head.

"I wouldn't be so sure, my lady." Myke Lynch spoke up. He was one of a small band of outlaws who had joined up with the Lady Uther and her bodyguard, Robayne. They were on their way to the Primogent's Palace.

"Why ever not?"

"Uh, it was your husband. He wasn't exactly the nicest of people..." Mathwin Berm said, hesitantly.

"Oh. Yes. The laws." On one of the long, cold nights that the six had shared together, Samuel had explained-rather harshly-about the taxes and laws imposed by Eylaesa's late husband. Most had been harsh, and more than a little unfair. Taxes had been raised to staggering amounts, and thievery was punished by hanging.

"I wouldn't worry too much." Mathwin said, brightening. "Uther's dead. You can lower the taxes, and fix the laws." The faith of both Mathwin and Myke never ceased to amaze Eylaesa. Though she had been always treated as a Lady, she had played the meek and docile wife. Most had pitied her, or were condescending. Of late, people had been slightly afraid of her. Without her dominating husband in her life, Eylaesa was letting her true, fierce nature back into the open.

"We should make the village soon." Samuel announced. Eylaesa wrinkled her nose at the young mans back. Not only did he refuse to use an honorific with her name, he had insisted on being in the lead. He claimed it was because he knew the way to the village, but any fool could follow a road.

"A warm bed sounds good." Robayne said, stretching and cracking his back in the saddle. "I haven't ridden this hard in a while."

"I would have thought you harder than that." Eylaesa said, turning and fixing her ice-blue eyes on her bodyguard. "But I suppose it's not your fault if you're so soft."

"I am not soft, my lady, simply out of practice." Robayne said, softly. Eylaesa glared at him a moment, and then turned away. That man never failed to raise her hackles. He vexed her nearly as much as this Samuel did, perhaps more as she had known Robayne longer. Sometimes she wished he would simply walk off the face of existence.

"I can see the smoke." Samuel called back, and Eylaesa realized he had ridden a bit ahead. She scowled, and heeled her horse to ride up beside him.

"Finally!" Eylaesa sighed. "It took longer than I had hoped for, but at least we will have warm beds. Or, most of us." She looked down her nose at Samuel, who shrugged, but otherwise ignored her.

"I'm sure they'll be enough room for us all, my lady." Robayne said, trying to smooth any ruffled feathers.

"If not, I'm sure Samuel would not be averse to sleeping in a barn." She smiled sweetly, and rode on ahead of the two men. The village was small, and the houses made of wood. The dusty road ran down the middle, and people were out and about their daily business.

"Excuse me sir." Eylaesa said, stopping by a lage, burly man. "Could you direct me to the inn?"

"The inn? Why?" The man eyed her and her fine silk gown suspiciously.

"I am the Lady Uther, and..."

"You!" The man roared. "Hey, boys, it's the Lady Uther!"

"Is everything all right?" Eylaesa asked, not liking the mans reaction to her name.

"Everything's perfect." The man grinned maliciously, showing yellow, crooked teeth A small circle of men were closing in around Eylaesa and her horse, and many of them had large cudgels.

"What's the meaning of this?" Eylaesa demanded, fury rising in her.

"The meaning of this is every lord within twenty miles of here has a bounty on your head. We mean to collect it."

"A bounty? But why?"

"Aye, a bounty. fifty gold pieces for you, alive. It seems whoever turns you into the Primogent stand's a pretty good chance of getting a better title." The circle was growing closer, and Robayne and the rest were just now riding up.

"Why? What does the Primogent want with me?" The Primogent is doing something? He's ignored the affairs of state for years. What does he want with me?

"You killed the High Lord Maegden, of the Primogents Court, or at least arranged it. The assassin named you, even after they cut off his legs, I hear. And I guess they decided you killed your husband after all, and arranged those other two to pay for it. If it was up to me, I'd hang you like a common thief, but fifty gold pieces is a lot of money, 'specially to pay those taxes of yours."

The men were quite close, and the ringleader had seized her horses reins. There were nine of the attackers, and only five men to defend Eylaesa. Four, really. Joss and his shovel didn't look as though they could do much damage.

"Let go of her." Robayne said in a clear, steely voice. Eylaesa turned, and saw Robayne atop his horse, sword drawn. Samuel was close behind, hand on his sword, and Myke and Mathwin had their weapons at the ready.

"What's this then? A royal guard? We'll take care of you first, then take the lady. Get 'em, boys." The crooked toothed man pointed, and his cronies charged at Robayne and the others. Eylaesa took advantage of the situation, and kicked the man in the head, as well as she could on horseback. He let out an oath, and grabbed her ankle, hard. Eylaesa pulled back her arm, and attempted to deliver a punch to his face, but he caught her wrist and swung her off her horse. Eylaesa struggled in his grasp, kicking and clawing, but the large man held on.

The men were a mad tangle of cudgels, swords and farm implements. Eylaesa couldn't tell who was wining, but she prayed that it was Robayne and her group of ragtag followers.

"You let go of me this instant!" She screamed, sinking her teeth into the arm that held her across her neck. She jammed back an elbow, and spun around as the soon as the man loosened his grip, delivering a swift kick between the mans legs. He went to his knees, howling in pain. Eylaesa straitened her gown, and blinked back tears of fright, fury and pain.

"For the Lady Uther!" Joss yelled, bringing his shovel down hard on the head of one of the men.

"The Lady Uther!" Mathwin and Myke echoed. It seemed Eylaesa's men, unskilled as they were, were winning the scuffle. Soon, the villagers that remained standing had run off, yelling something about reinforcements.

"I suggest we ride, my lady, and ride fast and far." Robayne's eyes were worried, and a large gash above his eye was oozing blood.

"I was just about to suggest that." Her comment was not as biting as it could have been, the man did earn that wound in her service, but she still did not like him bypassing her. She was in charge of this band, not him or Samuel. Both men would have to learn to heed her.

"It doesn't matter who's idea it was, as long as we do it!" Samuel snapped, kicking his horse hard. Eylaesa ground her teeth, and leaped awkwardly into the saddle. She winced at the pain in her ankle, but spurred her horse after him, assuming the rest would follow.

Lord Maegden killed? Who would do it? And blame me? I'm no one, at least now. And who could know of my plans to be Primogent, save for Robayne and myself? Samuel may suspect, but he would not have had time to get a message to anyone. And the Primogent has been little more than a figure head for years. I don't like this, especially the bounty on my head. I am a fugitive.

Eylaesa lost track of the distance and direction, as wrapped up in her thoughts as she was. She tried to puzzle out her situation, to come to some sort of an answer, but no answers came.

I can't believe Maegden is dead, Robayne thought, pounding after Eylaesa. Who would kill her, and why? Is Eylaesa really as special as Maegden made her out to be? She's just a minor noblewoman with delusions of grandeur. Maegden couldn't have truly expected her to usurp the Primogent. Could she have?

Robayne looked hard at the retreating form of Eylaesa Uther, and frowned slightly. The woman was determined, true, but she lacked the finesse and experience needed to do what she planned. But perhaps what she lacked in finesse and experience she made up for in will and desire. She had fire enough for ten women, even she was as prickly as a thorn bush at times. And she had her mind set on something, and when any woman set her mind to something, she often found a way to get it.

But she's just a girl, really. Barely twenty. How can she possibly believe she can do this? Already we're running, and we don't even know from what. The Primogent passing sentence. I didn't think the Primogent could do that. I was under the impression that only the High Court could accuse, or pass judgment. And the Primogent has done nothing for years. Maegden herself told me. She said he had been as listless as a sick kitten, taking no part in affairs of the state. But if he is being manipulated...There are many lands out there, beyond the rein of the Primogent. Any one of them would enjoy laying claim to this continent. Protect her. Those were my only orders. When did things get so bloody complicated?

"I believe we can stop, now." Eylaesa said, drawing her sweating stallion to a halt. Samuel turned his horse quickly.

"Can you be sure?" He demanded. "They could be on our heels!"

"We've been riding for longer than I can recall. It is dark, and I am sore. We are stopping." Eylaesa refused to be ordered around by a mere commoner. She swung off her horse, wincing slightly as her feet hit the ground, and a painful jolt shot up her legs. Her ankle buckled, and she would have fallen if not for the stirrup, which she grabbed on to hold herself up.

"Going soft, my lady?" Robayne said, arching an eyebrow at her. The longer he was around Samuel, the less he treated her with the proper respect.

"No. I simply landed on a stone." Eylaesa straitened her shoulders, and took a hesitant step. Her ankle was throbbing now, and she doubted she could walk very far. There are men after us. After me! I can't sit and do nothing while a bruise heals. A night of rest and I'll be good as new.

"We'll camp here." Samuel said. Eylaesa allowed Mathwin to take her horse, and peered through the darkness for a place to sit.

"Here's your travel trunk." Joss said, putting the large trunk down next to Eylaesa.

"Oh, Joss, thank you." She said, collapsing onto the trunk. Myke was quickly getting a fire going, and as soon as there was light enough, Eylaesa inspected her ankle. She hiked up her skirt and pulled off her boot. Her ankle looked swollen and discolored, even through her stocking. She pulled her stocking off, and grimaced. Her ankle was heavily swollen, and a dark purple-black color.

"Now what?" Robayne demanded, dropping to a crouch next to Eylaesa. "Damn it woman! Why didn't you tell anyone?" Eylaesa didn't think, didn't rationalize, didn't hear anything of what Robayne said except 'woman.' Her hand shot out, and met Robayne's cheek with a loud crack that resounded through the camp in the early night.

"You will never take that tone with me again." Eylaesa told him, her voice icy quiet and calm. "You will never speak to me in that way, you shall never attempt to give me orders, and you will address me with the proper honorific. I am not some tavern wench to be treated like dirt by the likes of you. I am your better, and I will be treated such."

The camp was silent, everyone's eyes glued to Eylaesa and Robayne. They were all waiting to see his reaction.

"I'm sorry my Lady." He said, bowing his head. "I lost control of my temper on seeing your injury. I was not aware you were so seriously injured, and it came as a surprise. Please, forgive me and allow me to tend your wound."

What is wrong with him? Eylaesa wondered. She had expected anything but this. She had expected anything but this. She had expected him to yell, to stalk off, to insult her, but not to bow meekly to her wishes. That wasn't like him, even in the beginning.

"Apology...accepted, Robayne. And you may tend to my ankle, if you think you can do anything." She held out her ankle to him, and realized she was sitting in a camp full of men with her leg bare to above the knee. She colored slightly, but refused to show she was flustered. It wasn't as if any of them were looking.

"Tell me if it hurts." Robayne said softly, gingerly taking Eylaesa's ankle in his hand. His hands were large and warm, and he held her ankle in one and her heel in the other. Eylaesa tensed, suddenly wishing she had not looked at her injury. Robayne rotated her foot slowly, but each movement sent jolts of pain through her leg.

"It hurts." She said, biting hard on her lower lip. "It hurts."

"It may be broken, my lady." Robayne said, grasping her ankle gently. His hands were amazingly soft, for a peasant's.

"Broken?" She asked, peering down at her disfigured ankle.

"It's sprained at least, broken at best. I'll splinter it, but you shouldn't walk on it until it seems to be healing, and even then not much."

"I'm sure it's not as bad as that." Eylaesa said, frowning. We can't hold up for me. But...where are we going?

"It is, my lady. Here, this may cause pain." Robayne put a long shard of wood alongside her ankle, and tied it in place with a length of cloth. Eylaesa bit her lip to keep from crying out.

"Robayne?" She asked, once the wave of pain had passed. "Where are we going? If the Primogent has ordered my arrest..."

"I have an idea, my lady." Robayne said, still holding Eylaesa's ankle. "It is...risky, I fear, but it may be our only option."

"Robayne, please, I grow weary of your ranting. What is your plan? And have you done attending my ankle? I would like it back?"

"Of course." Robayne said, and let go of Eylaesa's foot immediately. "There is a sea port, high on the northernmost tip of this continent. We could take a ship to my land. You'd be safe from the Primogent there."

Sea port? His lands? What is he blathering about? None of this makes any sense to me.

"My lady?" Robayne asked.

"Robayne, did that gash addle your mind?" Eylaesa asked.

"I warned you it was risky."

"That's not what I meant, Robayne. You are speaking nonsense. There are no other land's but the Primogents."

"My lady...?" Robayne's voice had a questioning note to it. "Surely you must know...There are many lands beyond the sea that the Primogent does not hold. My land is one of them. It is ruled by a council of lords and ladies, instead of one supreme ruler. The seaport I propose to take you to is ruled by them, not the Primogent."

"I've never heard of other lands, but...very well. We will go to this sea port, if it is our only option."

"And you simply assume we will follow you blindly?" Samuel snapped.

"We're free men, we're not beholden to you."

"I never suggested you were, but these three did pledge themselves to me, even if you did not. I am not asking you to stay, but it is your choice. Go, stay, it doesn't matter to me." Eylaesa shrugged. Maybe he'll go, and things will go back to normal.

"I go where my friends go." Samuel grumbled. Eylaesa sniffed, and shifted her eyes away.

"I'm tired. I think I will retire." Eylaesa said. Mathwin and Joss had set up her blankets near her chest, so she wouldn't have to walk far. She slipped down, and wrapped them about her, shutting out the sounds of the camp around her.

Robayne stared at the sleeping form of Eylaesa in amazement. The rest of the men were asleep, save for Samuel who had gone a little ways into the woods to keep watch. She didn't even know there were lands beyond those she had seen. How is that possible, that she not know that? For all she pretends to know, she is as ignorant as a babe in a nursery.

He shook his head. Women had always puzzled him, and noblewomen even more so. Eylaesa was a puzzle unto herself. I surprised her, earlier, apologizing like that. But dear gods, she could have done herself worse damage if she had kept her mouth shut about that ankle of hers. She truly amazes me...

"They're completely besotted with her." Samuel snorted contemptuously, coming up silently behind Robayne. "I fail to see the attraction."

"To Lady Uther?" Robayne questioned, turning.

"She's pretty enough, I'll give her that, but she's a spoiled brat at best, a shrew at worst. She let's that temper of hers control her, and she's as cunning as a viper, and about as trustworthy."

"I wouldn't go as far as to say that much. She is a bit of a shrew, but she is hardly untrustworthy." Robayne shrugged. A woman who murders her husband, trustworthy. Perhaps my mind was addled.

"Did she arrange to have the Lord Maegden killed?"

"No." Robayne answered with honesty. She might have killed before, but only with reason. There's nothing to gain from killing Maegden, and besides. when would she have had the time? When she was recovering from her attack in the Primogent's Palace? She was abed the whole time. At the estates? She was hardly there. No. Eylaesa didn't kill Maegden.

"And you would know? You monitor her every move?"

"No, but I have known her for a long time now." A month, maybe two. "She had no reason to kill Maegden."

"And plenty of reason to kill her husband?"

"She was proven innocent."

"And was she?"

"I hardly see what baring it has on the matter." Robayne shrugged again. "She is a woman in danger, and therefor deserving of our help."

"She's gotten to you, too, hasn't she? She's under your skin, now. A few nights ago you were as ready to grouch about her as I was. You lay your hands on her naked flesh once, and you'll follow her to the ends of time."

"You're talking foolishness. I've no feelings for the Lady Uther except as a charge. I am sworn to protect her, and that is what I will do. I barely like the woman, let alone...Besides, I hardly touched her naked flesh. I bound her broken ankle."

"Hmm. I'd watch myself around her, if I were you. I, for one will never turn my back to her. I'd likely find a dagger in it, if I did." Samuel spit, and glanced at Eylaesa. "A pity such beauty should be wasted on one such as her." He moved a little ways off, and collapsed into his blankets.

What is wrong with him? He's showed nothing but contempt for Eylaesa since he laid eyes on her. She's not as bas as he seems to think. She can be civil at times. But the nerve of him, insinuating I was infatuated with her. She treats me the same as she would treat dirt. She calls me peasant, and knows nothing of my background. Fool woman. Fool, fool woman.

Eylaesa awoke, her anger not dimmed in the least. She had laid awake deep into the night, and overheard a conversation she was not meant to hear. A shrew? Spoiled? Intolerable men! What do they know of me? Of my life? If they were forced upon by some violent, drunken lout more than twice their age...And Robayne...Hardly likes me? I knew I was nothing but a job. And to think I had begun to think he thought of me as a friend, that his devotion was real.

"My lady? It is time to be off." Robayne lay a hand on her shoulder.

"Do not touch me." She hissed.

"Lady? Are you all right?"

"What should it matter to you?"

"My lady?"

"Leave me. I am able to wake on my own." Eylaesa wanted nothing to do with Robayne.

"As you wish."

Eylaesa pulled herself up, and tried desperately to smooth her gown. It was wrinkled and dusty, having been worn for two or three days. It was travel worn and stained, and Eylaesa decided it was time to change it. She rose awkwardly, keeping her weight off of her wounded foot. She rummaged through her trunk for a clean gown, and pulled out a simple riding gown of light grey. It was only then she realized she was in the middle of the woods with five men.

"Is there a problem, my lady?" Robayne asked, coming over to Eylaesa.

"Didn't I tell you to leave me?" She snapped, wondering why she felt like crying.

"I'm sorry." Robayne looked genuinely hurt, but did as was asked.

"Mathwin, Myke! Could you come here a moment?"

"Yes, lady?" They asked, immediately at her side.

"Could you hold up a blanket for me, I need to change. This gown is stained and itching." She smiled at them, for their undying loyalty always managed to touch her.

"Of course." Myke said, lifting up a blanket.

"And keep your back turned!" Mathwin admonished, holding up the other corner.

"You don't...you don't believe those accusations against me, do you?" Eylaesa asked, struggling out of her dress.

"About you killing the Lord?" Mathwin asked.

"Of course we don't." Myke said. "You wouldn't kill anyone. At least, not unless you had too."

"Yeah." Mathwin agreed. "Why'd you ask?"

"I was just...curious. You aren't regretting coming, are you? You can leave, if you really want. I don't know where we're going, or what's going to happen."

"And that's what's so good about it." Mathwin said.

"It's an adventure. We've never had an adventure." Myke said.

"I just wanted to thank you. For sticking with me. It...it means a lot to me." Eylaesa chewed on her bottom lip as she buttoned up her gown. The words felt awkward, but she meant them. "And Joss, too."

"Joss would follow a turkey, if someone else told him it was a good idea." Myke said.

"Not that you're a turkey!" Mathwin quickly said. "You're really not."

"It's all right." Eylaesa said, coming out from behind the blanket, limping. "If you would help me to my horse...?"

"I'll help you." Robayne said. "I'm stronger than both of these two, and besides, you will be riding with me."

"What?"

"You can't ride with that ankle. You will ride on the front of my saddle." Robayne didn't wait for an answer, but swung Eylaesa into his arms and deposited her on his horse. She felt rage boil up inside of her, and sat stiffly in the saddle as Robayne climbed up behind her. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and grabbed the reins in the other. Eylaesa's trunk had been loaded onto Leviathan, Eylaesa's gelding. The rest of the party had mounted up, and were ready to go.

"We have to ride hard and fast, not to mention far. I wish to reach Wychnor in a month, if possible. We haven't a moment to waste!" Robayne kicked his heels into his mare, and the horse shot off at a break neck pace. Eylaesa was fleetingly glad for Robaynes arm about her waist, but the thought was gone. The mere thought of that man touching her sent flashes of heat through her.

How I hate him. I hate him more than I hate Samuel. If he gives me one good reason... She glared off into the distance, wishing she had some idea of what lay ahead. When she had started, everything had been new and exiting, but now it was terrifying. A new land, where supposedly everyone was like Robayne. I'll slit my own throat before the close of a day, in a land like that.

But she put those thoughts from her head, and concentrated on the road ahead. They were leaving the well worn path, and heading into the woods. Branches and leaves whipped at Eylaesa's face, but she ignored them. She refused to be broken, by anyone or anything. No matter what happened, she would be Primogent!

The Storm

Great black thunderheads were gathering over the open field, bringing with them a biting wind that whipped the cloaks of the travelers about them. It roared and howled, ushering in the first white flakes of the blossoming snowstorm.

"It looks like a storm is coming." Samuel called, reining his horse around. "I can't tell how bad it is."

"It looks bad to me." Eylaesa snapped, eyeing the great black clouds.

"Do we ride on, or camp here?" Robayne asked, keeping a tight arm around Eylaesa's waist. She still rode with him, as her ankle injury was still rather fresh.

"Either way, we're not going to avoid the storm." Samuel answered.

"If we ride strait into it, could we get through, and come out the other side?" Robayne's mare danced nervously, smelling the storm on the wind.

"It's a possibility." Samuel shrugged. "If we camp we'll just have to wait it out."

"Then we ride. I don't want to waist any time." Robayne didn't even check with Eylaesa, but spurred on his horse to meet the oncoming storm.

Has he put himself in charge again? Eylaesa wondered. Perhaps he's due for another tongue lashing. He didn't even ask my opinion. Yes, I would have decided to ride as well, but that's inconsequential. I am in charge, not him.

"Hold on tight, my lady, that storm looks bad. If the wind is this bad here, it will be worse in there."

Eylaesa ignored Robayne. She had been doing so for the past three days, ever since she had overheard Robayne telling Samuel what he really thought of her. But she found she could not put him from her mind completely. He crept into her dreams, not that she had any control over those, but he had.

What is he up to? Lord Maegden is dead. He is surely released from his orders now. Not that I would simply allow him to walk off, what with all he knows, but I see no reason for him to stay. Especially if I mean nothing more than a job to him. Surely I don't treat him that badly. He is insufferable and intolerable, but he is useful. And why in the world should any of this matter to me?

She shook her head in an attempt to clear it, and shrunk back against Robayne as the first gust of icy wind hit. They were nearer to the storm now, and the snow swirled around in great white *****.

And why has he never questioned anything? The dead man in my wardrobe, he never asked how I had killed him, only why. He must find it odd that I can defend myself to the extent I can, yet he never asks. Or does he honor the promise he made to never question me? He's certainly questioned me on other accounts, and he is hardly following my orders any longer. When I am Primogent... Eylaesa trailed off, squeezing shut her eyes against the snow. It had become colder, and she was almost thankful for Robayne's arm around her. It offered a bit of warmth, and certainly helped to keep her in the saddle.

And what is it he's hiding? I know it's something, I can tell by his eyes. He knows something he's not telling me, but what? Perhaps in these other lands I'll find my answer. Perhaps... She let the thought drift, and concentrated on getting through the storm.

Maybe this was a bad idea, Robayne thought, guiding his horse through the blinding white. He could hardly make out Samuel next to him, and had no guarantee that Mathwin and the rest were following. This storm is worse than I thought, and if the ground becomes too icy... Robayne had seen many horses lost to snapped tendons gained from the layer of ice that could cover snow. But the choice was made, and we can't turn back now.

Robayne held tight to Eylaesa, plunging through the building snow drifts. His horse fought against the wind, and he wished fervently he had a cloak to take away the chill. At this rate, we'll be lucky to reach Wynchor by spring. Especially if we encounter any more storms like this one.

They had plunged into the heart of the storm, where the winds were the worst. Robayne could no longer see Samuel, and he could make out the head of his horse just barely. He wasn't even sure if he was going in the right direction. There was no sound save for the wind, and the muffled thudding of his horse's hooves.

"We have to find some sort of shelter!" Robayne called out, his words lost in the storm. I wish I knew if they could hear me. It's too easy for a man to get lost in a storm like this, and the horse can't keep up this pace, not in the snow. Robayne pulled his horse to a stop, and peered through the snow.

"Why are we stopping?" Eylaesa demanded.

"We have to find shelter. I think..." Robayne trailed off, hoping his memory served him true. I think there's a cave around here, somewhere. To the east, I think.

"You think what?"

"It doesn't matter. Just hold on." He turned his horse in the direction he thought was east, and called out once more before he took off. There was no reply.

What is that fool man doing? Eylaesa thought to herself as Robayne suddenly veered from the course. It's so cold...I can hardly see. She shivered, and shrunk farther back into Robayne. Horrid man, dragging me into this storm. Well, this is his mess we're in, and he had better get us out of it.

The cold whipped at Eylaesa, and she grumbled quietly to herself, not wanting to admit the fear that was creeping in at the edges of her mind was really there. She concentrated on the white in front of her, and at berating Robayne in her mind.

"There!" Robayne mumbled in her ear, and Eylaesa could just barely make out the dark mouth of a cave. It was obvious Robayne meant to take them there. At least it will be sheltered, and hopefully dry. But if we encounter some sort of wild snow beast... Eylaesa let the thought go as they entered the cave. Great icicles hung from the mouth of the cave, glistening coldly. The cave was high, and deep, and most importantly, dry.

"We can wait out the storm in here." Robayne said, swinging down of off his horse. He gave a hand to Eylaesa, which she took with a sniff. She came down hard, forgetting about her ankle, and yelped in pain. Robayne swept her up, ignoring her squawk of protest. "There's a heated pool in the back of the cave. You can clean yourself, and soak that ankle. The heat should do you good." Eylaesa refused to answer, but it was apparent as they made their way back farther that the cave did seem to be getting warmer, and steam seemed to be rising from the floor. It was also

getting darker. Robayne set her down, and pulled a torch from the pack he had slung across his shoulder. He frowned at it, mumbling about the damp snow, but managed to get it lit. He stuck it into a crack in the wall, and it bathed the cave in a soft light. Eylaesa ignored Robayne, and turned her attention to the heated pool. It was wide enough that the other side wasn't lighted completely, and Eylaesa thought she could see a stream leading off farther into the cave. A small cascade of water streamed down the wall, filling the pool.

"You could do with a bath, my lady." Robayne turned his back to her, and set about preparing the camp. When he was finished, he sat down, his back leaning against the rocky protrusion next to the pond. Eylaesa decided a bath sounded good, and she struggled out of dress, darting furtive glances at Robayne, to make sure he kept his back turned.

Eylaesa hobbled over to the steaming pool and eased herself into the hot water. It felt incredible on her skin, grimy with travel. She lazed about in the water, letting it soak into her bones. She made her way to the edge of the pool, where Robayne sat. She rested her chin on the ledge and watched him silently.

"What?" He asked. "I heard you come over, and I can feel your eyes on me."

"As if you would care what I thought." Eylaesa snapped. "I'm just a job."

"What under the gods are you talking about?"

"I heard you speaking with Samuel."

"Oh, char!" Eylaesa saw Robayne's shoulders heave. "Is that what this has all been about?"

"All what has been about?"

"You, and the way you've been treating me!" Robayne snapped.

"I have been treating you in the way you deserve!"

"I'm tired of this, this petty bickering. Let us come to a truce, then?"

"A truce? Why should I form a truce with you? And would you kindly turn around, I cannot argue with your back. I'm decently shielded."

"My lady," Robayne started, turning, "Whatever you may have heard...Samuel does not like you. But he's a good man, and a fair hand with a sword. I have been trying to bind him too us by befriending him."

"So what do you think of me?" Eylaesa asked, leveling her gaze on Robayne. Her heart had begun picking up speed, and she felt warm all over. Of course you're warm. You're standing in a hot spring.

"I think you are...I think many things of you, my lady." It was clear to Eylaesa that Robayne was choosing his words carefully. "I believe you are an intelligent woman, and a very dangerous one. I believe you to be ambitious, and deceptive. But I believe you are something more than what you seem."

"And is that all?" Eylaesa asked, smiling slightly.

"What else matters? I will not betray you, if you are worried about that."

"But you no longer have reason to stay with me. Maegden is dead, and your funds have surely stopped."

"My funds have nothing to do with this. I believe you have a chance at succeeding. And I also believe in finishing what I have started. I will see you to your throne, my lady."

"And if I don't wish your company?" Eylaesa turned her tone cold.

"I would honor your wishes, and follow from afar. I am bound to you, my lady."

He sounds so sincere...

"Why?"

"Your pardon, my lady?"

"Why are you bound to me?"

"That is my matter, not yours. But..." Robayne hesitated, "When you are not skinning me with your tongue, I find your company rather pleasant. My lady."

"Humph." Eylaesa snorted, outwardly as cold as ever. Inside, she was shaken. What is he up to? He must be hiding something, or he wants something. Power? Perhaps.

"Was your husband that cruel?"

"What?" Eylaesa was caught off guard.

"Was he so cruel as to make you this suspicious of all men? I can see it in your eyes. I have told you, I mean you know harm or ill will. I am your man, my lady, no matter what happens, and whether I like it or not."

"My husband is none of your concern."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. Ah!" Robayne threw up his arms.

"Who are you?" Eylaesa demanded.

"It doesn't matter!" Robayne snapped.

"I thought you said you were tired of our petty bickering!"

"I am! But you insist on irritating me! You pull on the invisible strings you've attached to me until I can't tell up from down, and then you insinuate it's my fault. And when I give you the respect you deserve, you strike me!"

"Respect? You've never treated me with an ounce of respect! Now, give me clean clothing so I may reprimand you properly!"

"No." Robayne said, sitting down in front of the fire. "Come get them yourself."

Eylaesa's chin dropped as she stared at Robayne. The man can't possibly be serious! Why...he... Eylaesa clenched her teeth.

"Well, it is a moot point anyway, as my only dress is not clean." Eylaesa said, attempting to gain the higher ground.

"I have a clean shirt you may wear, and a clean cloak." Robayne told her. "If you ever decide to get out of the pool." He grinned wickedly at her, but it faltered, and a strange look came over his face. "I'm sorry. Here." He picked up a cloak and brought it over to her. "Can you get out, or do you need a hand? The shallow edge is a bit far."

But... One minute he was taunting her mercilessly, and now he was all shame and apologies. Men! I'll never understand them!

"I would appreciate a hand, but I am indecent." Eylaesa reminded him.

"I'll keep my eyes closed, I promise." And he shut his eyes and held out his free hand. Eylaesa eyed it warily, and contemplated pulling him down into the pool with her, but thought better of it. She took his hand, and he pulled her out of the pool. The cold hit her like a hammer, and she grabbed the cloak and wrapped it about herself, hugging it tight.

"Thank you." She said quietly, going and sitting by the fire.

"It's nothing." Robayne joined her, and looked at her intently, head cocked.

"What?" Eylaesa asked, shifting uncomfortably.

"Nothing. We can wait out the storm in here. Hopefully Samuel and the others were able to find shelter. Samuel will most likely press on to Wynchor, he knows the general direction. With luck, we will either meet them on the way or in the city itself."

"Will it be a long journey?" The fire was warm, and Robayne was treating her civilly. The least she could do was return the favor.

"The journey to Wynchor itself should take perhaps a month, a little less. Then it's another month or so across the ocean, but if we get a good wind, it may be faster."

"What's it like? Where you come from?"

"The land is united. King Jestin rules over all, and he's a fair ruler. It's...it's a very different place then here." Robayne shrugged. He seemed reluctant to talk. There he goes hiding something again. I must loosen his tongue, no matter what it takes!

"Robayne?" She asked, edging closer, "What of the military power?" That seemed a safe enough topic.

"Well, there is one central army, and another, independent army, you could say." Robayne licked his lips. Eylaesa moved right up next to him. She had knotted the cloak above her breasts, but she had to clutch it to keep it from falling open. She loosened her grip slightly.

"Who commands the armies?" She looked up at Robayne and fluttered her eyelashes. I cannot believe I have stooped this low. Attempting to seduce my own bodyguard for information I will learn on my own soon enough.

"The Jestin's General commands the Kings army, and the other is self governed. The King's army has a large complex on the outskirts of Barleon, the capital city. The independent army has a large fortress to their own."

Robayne didn't seem to be reacting. Eylaesa tossed her head and gripped the cloak. What is wrong with him? I could be a stone, for all it mattered! She pulled herself up and attempted a more direct approach.

"What are you hiding?" She demanded.

"Dear Gods, must you know everything at once? Things in my land are different, My lady. The government, the people, even the beasts are different. To explain everything would take hours."

"And hours we have, Robayne."

"Then you agree to a truce?"

"I agree." Eylaesa said, sighing. Why did the man have to make everything so difficult?

"Mathwin! Joss! Myke!" Samuel called out, wheeling his horse about. The wind tore at his words, but he heard answering cries. They were distant, and thin, but they were there. "Head north!" Samuel called. "North, and east! And find shelter! This cold is killing! But keep northeast! We'll meet again in Wynchor!"

There was no way to tell if the three men had heard. Samuel looked around, and saw no shelter. He slid off his horse, holding the reins of the frightened beats tight in his hands, He began digging through the snow, pilling it up and carving it out into a sort of rude hut. The snow was deep here, and he built it up high, high enough to fit Gideon. The horse balked at first, but entered the strange shelter. Samuel huddled against the far wall, grateful to be out of the wind. Without that, the hut was considerable warmer than outside, and with Samuel and Gideon's body heat, it would warm rapidly.

Bloody woman! I blame her for this. She dragged us off on this fool journey. She has ambition, I'll give her that. And a fair face. Char, she could probably launch an army with that face. But pretty eyes and soft hair won't win any battles. Even if she has managed to wrap Robayne around her finger, that's one man. She can't hope on using her looks to get her power. And she whatever Robayne says, she doesn't look very special to me. She's a spoiled brat is what she is, and a shrew at that. And I doubt if I've eve seen a more conniving woman. she'd put a blade in your back as soon as she'd look at you.

Samuel began unsaddling Gideon, and pulling out his blankets. I wouldn't even be here, but those three can't take care of themselves, and Myke and Joss go where Mathwin goes. And Mathwin's falling for that woman, even if I'm the only one who can see it. That could be trouble. Maybe more trouble than it's worth. Samuel wrapped himself in his blankets and tried not to think anymore.

"...It's not as complex as your system. You believe that nobility is your birthright." Robayne explained.

"It is." Eylaesa interrupted.

"No. What if two powerful nobles produce an idiot for a son? He's next in line, right? Since he was born to the right family, he is put in a position of power. Whatever lands he rules over will suffer."

"Not necessarily. If a ruler truly is unfit, someone will simply kill him and take over."

"And the cycle begins again!"

"And how do you prevent this?"

"In order to be nobility, and in a position of power, you must prove you are fit. Any who wish to strive for a title and land start as the lowest servant in the King's castle, and progress from there. If they prove they are strong, and intelligent, and capable, they rise through the ranks until, ultimately, the king chooses an heir."

Eylaesa stared at Robayne as though he had two heads. She obviously couldn't comprehend this.

"But, what if the king has a son?" She asked, apparently struggling to understand.

"If he wishes to follow in his fathers footsteps, he starts at the bottom, and works his way to the top."

"And if he doesn't wish to follow?"

"He-or she for that matter-are given to a family not of nobility to raise."

"What name do those who wish to be nobility take? They can't take their father's, can they?"

"No." Robayne said, surprised at the intelligent questions Eylaesa was asking. At least while talking he was able to keep his mind strait. Looking at her like she was, wrapped in his cloak, her golden hair curling damply around her bare shoulders, he was seeing her as a woman, not a Lady. And she had moved so close...He shook his head, and concentrated on her questions. "They take their mother's name."

"I see." Eylaesa started at him, the unspoken question in her eyes. She is seeing me as something more than a servant now. As what, I don't know. Yes, Eylaesa, I am not the lowly commoner you thought I was. But if you only knew the truth! You would look at me far differently, and perhaps with deeper dislike than now.

"It is an...interesting system." Eylaesa said, allowing Robayne a brief reprieve. She wasn't going to ask.

"We've found it works. Our land was once like yours, torn and struggling. Now, we stand untied against outside threats."

"Outside threats?" Eylaesa looked as though she would faint.

"The Western Empire." Robayne said, wiping his face with his hands. He often forgot how little Eylaesa knew of the world.

"What's the Western Empire?"

"My lady, much as I would love to school you in all I know, I'm tired. And I'm sure you want to reach Wynchor quickly. We cannot hurry if we're tired."

"Humph. I suppose you're right. DO you think the storm will have blown over by the time we wake up?"

"Most likely. Now get some sleep." Robayne wrapped himself in his blanket and lay with his back to the fire. He closed his eyes, and attempted to sleep, but the picture of Eylaesa damp and wrapped in his cloak out of his mind. Sleep was a long time coming.

"What do we do?" Myke asked nervously. He, Mathwin and Joss had managed to stay together, despite the storm. They had weathered it out in a clump of trees.

"Samuel told us to head north." Mathwin said.

"Are you sure? I couldn't hear anything over the wind." Joss said, surprisingly lucid.

"I'm sure. It's clear now, but another storm could blow up any minute."

"He's right." Myke said, shifting on his horse. "Let's just head north."

"That's what I said." Mathwin said, annoyed. He turned his horse, and headed north.

"Hey! Who put you in charge?" Myke asked.

"I did."

"Why?"

"Well, because I'm the oldest." Mathwin explained. "And I know where I'm going."

"You do?" Joss asked, not believing.

"Sure. North. And a little east."

"Oh..." Myke groaned.

"Hey, let's just go?" Mathwin said, kicking his horse, but keeping the pace slow. There was a fine sheet of ice across the snow, and a slip could mean death. The sun shone down brightly, but offered no heat. The sky was startlingly blue, and now and then a large bird would wing its way across the great azure dome.

Mathwin, Myke and Joss rode in silence. Since losing Eylaesa, the tension between Mathwin and Myke had grown. Both blamed the other, and both wanted to be in charge. Why's he so upset? Mathwin wondered, glancing over his shoulder at Myke. Just because he doesn't get to lead, he's sulking. That just proves I should be the one in charge. Mathwin continued berating Myke in his mind, but it was only to keep from worrying about Eylaesa. The Lady Uther trusted him, and he had let her down. And she could never love a man who had let her down...

It doesn't matter! Mathwin told himself bitterly. She's a lady, and I'm just a nobody. She couldn't love me. It's just not fair! Mathwin clenched his teeth and focused on the wide plain of white in front of him.

Eylaesa stretched lazily in the firelight, feeling more rested than she had in a while. The hot pool had warmed her stiff joints, and the fire her cold skin. Robayne was still asleep, and the sounds of the storm had ceased.

Lazy man. Eylaesa sniffed, staring down at Robayne. Truce. Pah! A strange man, from a strange land. But who is he? What is he? He could be a prince, or even a king for all I know. But I doubt it. A king would never allow himself to be treated... She trailed off, stopping herself before she could finish the thought. A king would never behave as a servant. She amended. She treated Robayne fine, fit to his position. And yet...

There is something about him. He could be a king, one day. But now he is my bodyguard, my servant. But he's certainly handsome enough to be a king. Eylaesa let a small smile curve her lips. Robayne was a handsome man, with his curling blond hair and strong features. He looked peaceful as he slept, and the firelight bathed his features in a soft glow. The contours of his face were soft now, and Eylaesa could easily believe he was her younger. His long lashes rested against his cheek, and his lips were parted slightly, adding an air of innocence.

I've seen him kill. Eylaesa thought. I'd be hard pressed to believe it now, but I saw with my own eyes. And I have heard insult after insult pour forth from those lips. King or servant, he is a man like any other, handsome or not. A handsome face does not promise a handsome heart. It truly is a pity. He could have been my friend, if I had met him earlier, years earlier... She shook her head, pushing forbidden thoughts from her head.

"Wake up, you lazy oaf!" She said, kicking him with her good foot. She had wrapped her blankets around her as she had with the cloak, and had run her fingers through her hair.

"Wha...?" Robayne muttered, opening his eyes.

"I said wake up, you lazy oaf! The storms over, and I wish to be off!"

"Oh." Robayne stretched, and stood. Eylaesa remained sitting. "What re you waiting for...Oh. One moment." Robayne turned crimson, and hurried over to his packs. Obviously, he had realized she had no clothing. He handed her a long white shirt, and a pair of soft breeches. He turned his back while she pulled them on.

"I'm decent." She said. Horrid clothing!

"I shall saddle Chandra and we shall be off." Robayne promised, hefting the saddle onto the sturdy mare. Eylaesa stood, favoring her wounded foot. Robayne finished and placed her on the horse. They rode out into the sparkling whiteness, and Eylaesa gasped.

"What's wrong, my lady?" Robayne asked.

"It's beautiful." She breathed. Everything was coated in ice. The ground, the trees, the sides of the cave. The whole word seemed to glisten and sparkle like a thousand diamonds. Robayne chuckled softly and heeled Chandra on.

"It is, isn't it? I had almost forgotten." Robayne sounded sad, almost wistful. Eylaesa decided not to ask. She leaned back against Robayne's chest and prayed the others were safe. Despite not liking Samuel, she admitted he had his uses. With luck, they would all meet up in Wynchor. And then, a ship across the sea, into a strange new land, and support. At long last, Eylaesa saw he plans beginning to materialize. Her illusions of grandeur were no longer illusions. Despite the biting cold, Eylaesa smiled. And for once, she didn't wish Robayne any ill will.

Legends and Legions

The town lay nestled sleeping, deep in snow. Smoke curled lazily out of chimneys, and the roads were bare of activity. Samuel pulled his horse to a stop, looking down into the small valley and wondering if he was hallucinating. He continued down the trail, and on close inspection, the town appeared to be little more than a road with a few houses scattered about, and perhaps an inn. It was hardly worthy of the name village. Community perhaps, but that was all.

What in the name of all that is hole is a village doing in the middle of this wasteland? Samuel wondered to himself peering at the small, cozy houses. A small inn, identified by the snow-covered sign hanging over the door, was one of the last buildings on the single street. Samuel swung down off of Gideon and walked too the door. His were the first footprints in the shin deep snow outside the inn. He looped Gideon's reins over the hitching post, and entered.

The common room was the same as any common room. Round wooden tables with wooden chairs made a sort of ring around the room, and a large fireplace sat against the wall. The innkeeper was behind a long, wooden bar, and a door led off to what Samuel assumed was the kitchen.

"Yes?" The innkeeper, a small thin man with a pinched face said, looking startled. "What do you want?"

"A hot meal, and a room if you have them." Samuel looked at the man intently. Obviously, this inn hadn't seen business in a long while.

"We have both, good sir. I apologize for my abruptness. We haven't had visitors here in a long time. Not many come this way." The innkeeper still looked a bit suspicious, but Samuel chose to ignore that.

"I understand. And if someone could see to my horse?" Samuel raised an eyebrow. He wanted no trouble, but he didn't feel like buttering up a distrustful innkeep.

"Er, we don't have any help..." The innkeeper trailed off. Samuel reached into his pocket and pulled out his purse.

"I'd be willing to pay for good service."

"Of course sir, of course." The innkeeper bobbed his head, licking his lips greedily. "Khelyn! Come here girl!"

Samuel sat down at a table and waited until a thin young woman with curly dark hair emerged from the kitchen. Her hair fell to her shoulders, and her face was as pinched as the innkeepers. Dark green almond eyes looked out from under rather heavy brows, and thin lips were pressed into a tight line. She wore a plain brown woolen dress, with a dingy apron, and it hung off her frail form.

"Yes, da?" She asked, looking nervously at Samuel.

"Go see to this mans horse, and then fix him a decent meal. And hop to it girl!" The innkeeper glared at his daughter, and she scurried out the door, with hardly a glance at Samuel.

"Sorry about my daughter sir, she's a lazy wench. But show her a firm hand, and she'll leap! I'm Master Navgar. may I ask what brings you out all this way?" Navgar licked his lips again, and Samuel smiled broadly.

"I was out for a ride, and a vicious storm blew up. It seems I lost my way." He had no intention of telling this man his true destination. The door opened, and Khelyn reentered. She didn't speak, but scurried right into the kitchen at a glare from Navgar. Samuel frowned mentally, and wished he didn't have to stay the night. But the ice was dangerous, and Gideon was tired. And so was Samuel.

"There's not much of a selection. Mutton and beer." Navgar said, "But it's the best you can get around here. It's hard living, but we do what we can."

"I know the life." Samuel said, taking a pipe out of his cloak. He tapped some tobacco into the bowl, and lit it. He attempted to look as at ease and off guard as he possible could.

"Are you from very far?" Navgar asked.

"I couldn't tell you." Samuel shrugged. "I hail from a farm just on the outskirts of Kell." Kell was a small town, hopefully not too far from here.

"Ah, yes, we've had stragglers from your parts before." The innkeeper nodded.

"Ah, it looks as though that mutton is on it's way!" Samuel licked his licks in anticipation. It would be good to have hot food. Khelyn set the plate before, curtsied hurriedly, and disappeared behind the bar. It had grown dark out, and the innkeeper stifled a yawn.

"It seems I'm not used to keeping such hours." He said, grinning. "If you don't mind I'll excuse myself. Khelyn will show you your room when you're done." The innkeeper shot a meaningful look at the young girl, and went upstairs. Khelyn busied her self putting chairs up on tables, and dusting. Samuel didn't really see what dusting would do, as the layer seemed to be ages deep. The mutton was stringy, and the beer was flat, but Samuel ate it anyway. Khelyn was doing her best to look busy and ignore him.

"Don't get many travelers out here, do you?" Samuel asked, lifting an eyebrow at the young woman.

"No, sir." She muttered, staring intently at the tabletop.

"It must be difficult to turn a profit."

"We do fine."

"Hmm." Samuel shrugged, and pushed his empty plate away.

"It's just been a bad year." The girl said, frowning at the plate. "It's not usually this bad..."

"Everyone has bad years." Samuel assured her. "Why, there've been years where I hardly get a stalk of wheat."

"It's the storms." Khelyn continued, and Samuel had no idea why. "They aren't usually this bad. All the sheep have died off, or they're sickly. We do what we can, but it's not enough."

"I understand."

"No, you don't! You live near a town, a real town. If you can't grow food, you can buy it. We can't. It would take at least two days to reach Kell, maybe three. And that's without the storms! Why..." Khelyn trailed off, red with embarrassment.

"It's all right." Samuel attempted to soothe the girls frayed nerves. "What's the matter?" He had a feeling it was more than just a bad year for sheep.

"Nothing." She muttered, snatching up the plate. Samuel placed a hand on her wrist, and held it.

"You can tell me."

"Why? Who are you? You aren't from Kell. You don't talk that way." Khelyn's eyes were wide and frightened.

"I'm..." He wracked his mind, not wanting to lie, but not wanting the whole truth. "I'm the head of a small legion. In the service of the Lady Uther." he nearly choked on his words. "We're traveling to a town in the far north."

"My da has never spoken well of Lords or Ladies." Khelyn said. "he says it's their fault we have to live like this."

"It is." Samuel told her. "But Lady Uther isn't a normal Lady." That was true enough. "She had plans for this land. I'm helping her."

"With your legion?"

"With the legion." Samuel agreed. Myke, Mathwin and Joss were a legion of sorts. A small one, but a legion all the same. Maybe.

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"Why not?"

"Well...I might tell my da."

"I doubt your father could do me any damage. This sword isn't just a decoration."

Khelyn frowned nervously. Her gaze fell on the old sword strapped to Samuel's hip. She pulled her wrist away, and sat down, hesitantly.

"He hurts me." Khelyn whispered, darting anxious looks at the stairwell. "He hits me, and sometimes worse."

"I'm sorry." Samuel said. Char! What have I gotten myself into? She's going to expect me to whisk her off to safety now.

"It's not your fault. But...You have coin. If you could give me some, and take me with you a ways, I would be very thankful."

"I don't know if I can do that..."

"Why not? I'll pledge allegiance to this Lady of yours, if that's what it takes." Her eyes had taken on a determined cast that seemed inherent to all women. Samuel realized he had no chance of changing her mind, so he backed down.

"all right. But I can only take you as far as Wynchor. And I expect you to earn your keep."

"I wouldn't think not to." Khelyn said, sounding scandalized that he would even suggest such a thing.

"Fine. I suppose we have to leave now, so as to avoid your father. All right. Do you have a horse? Of course not. You'll have to ride behind me. We don't have time to get your things, just get a cloak and lets go." Samuel stood up, throwing his own cloak about his shoulders.

"Samuel...?" She said, hesitantly.

"What now?" He demanded.

"Thank you." She said, sighing. "I just wanted to say thank you."

***

"Are we nearly there?" Eylaesa asked for about the twentieth time that day.

"Another week." Robayne said, sighing. "We must go slow through these lands."

"But why?"

"Because they belong to the wild peoples."

"What wild peoples?" She demanded.

"The people who live in the woods."

"But who rules over them?"

"No one, my lady, they rule themselves."

"But these lands must belong to someone!" Eylaesa simply couldn't grasp the idea of lands belonging to a people rather than a person.

"Never mind. Just be quiet! They don't like nobles of any sort, and peasants and the like only slightly less."

"Why have I never heard of them?"

"Because they keep to themselves, and very few are friendly. They'd kill you as soon as they found out what you were."

"Kill me?"

"Eventually."

"But you just said..." Eylaesa trailed off, and went quiet. Robayne sighed, wondering if he had hit a nerve.

"With luck, they won't know we're here until we're a week away." Eylaesa simply nodded, and Robayne had the ridiculous urge to put his arms around her and hold her. The image of her wearing nothing but his cloak, her hair glowing golden in the firelight, leaning close to him slipped unbidden into his mind. He tried to chase it away, but it snuck back. And the way she had looked at him that night...

"I don't like the cold." Eylaesa said sadly. Robayne shifted uncomfortably, too aware of her pressed against his chest. It had been so much easier when he thought of her as a spoiled noble. Now he thought of her as a woman, and an attractive one at that.

You're thinking dangerous thoughts, Tristairn. He told himself. Very dangerous thoughts. The sort that will get you a knife in your ribs if you're not careful. Robayne had had plenty of experience with women, but they had been tavern wenches and scullery maids. And none of them had tendencies to kill. Eylaesa was a noblewoman, and would very likely be a Queen. Or the equivalent of one. And Queens have no interest in vagabond bastard brats.

Robayne sighed, and let his shoulders slump. They had been days in the saddle, and supplies were running low. Robayne had set rabbit snares, but game was scarce. Eylaesa's ankle was nearly healed, and she had even begun lending a hand when setting up camp. Not much, but some.

"Will we be safe in Wynchor?" She asked, still quiet.

"I don't know." Robayne answered honestly. "Lord Alcaer will give you shelter, I know. His retainers and courtiers may not. It all depends on their loyalty, and the size of the bounty."

"What can I do?"

"We could attempt to disguise you." Robayne said. "My legs are sore. Why don't we stop for the night." He pulled the horse to a stop, and slid off. He gave Eylaesa a hand, and set up the small tent he had constructed of saplings and spare blankets.

"How do you plan to disguise me?" She asked, sitting across the fire outside the tent.

"I have an idea. You may not like it, but it's the best disguise I can think of."

"What?"

"If I cut your hair, and dress you in my clothes, you could perhaps pass for a boy."

"I doubt it Robayne. You're shirts are not loose enough, and my face devoid of any hair."

"Well, we could...bind you." Robayne suggested, awaiting the slap.

"Perhaps. But my face?"

"Perhaps I could pass you for a eunuch? They have no hair on their face."

"Yes. A eunuch." Eylaesa said, and Robayne wondered what was wrong with her. A week ago, she never would have agreed so easily. She would have fought and argued, and planted her foot down.

"My lady, are you well?" He asked.

"I don't know, Robayne. But I am tired. I believe I will retire now." She gave him a weak smile, and went into the small tent.

What is wrong with her? The truth of it was, she had been lapsing in and out of these moods for a while now. Ever since the cave... Does she know? Perhaps that's why she's acting this way. Whatever the cause, we cannot go on like this. I must talk with her.

"My lady?" He shook her shoulder gently and she rolled over.

"Robayne? What is it?"

"We need to talk my lady."

"I'm tired."

"I know, but you have not been yourself lately. I'm worried." His hand remained on her shoulder, and she stared at it as though a viper, ready to bite.

"I know." She said, drawing herself up to a sitting position. "And it is mostly my fault."

Eylaesa bit on the inside of her lower lip. She knew what the problem was, any fool could see. She had dug a fine hole for herself, and now it appeared she was plunging in. I never should have tried that on him!

"Robayne, I am sorry." She said simply.

"For what?" Robayne looked decidedly taken aback.

"For...for any notion I may have planted, and encouraged." She said, struggling with her words. She rarely had to apologize to anyone, and never of her own accord.

"My lady you have encouraged no..." He trailed off, his face turning crimson.

"It was my fault. And I apologize." She set her face into a stern mask. "And you have been set right, and you will banish any ideas you have had. If you please? I am tired. Goodnight." She rolled over again, and wrapped the blankets tight against her, before Robayne could see the color seeping into her cheeks.

"I think no differently of you." He said. "I'll stay awake a while longer, just in case."

The nerve of that man! Speaking to me that way! Why I... She trailed off, still blushing. True, it was her fault, and she had started the conversation, but he hadn't had the decency to let it rest. Why is it that since I met him my life has been one disaster after another? Catastrophe follows catastrophe. And now I have too... She shoved the thought away. She would dress as a boy, if she must, but she refused to be a eunuch. She had seen fair faced boys in her life.

And who are these wild people Robayne keeps ranting on about? I haven't seen a single sign of life other than us. It would be just like him to try and scare me into obedience. I cannot stand that man. He is petty, and... The thought trailed off. Her anger had been raised, but she had no where to channel it. She had run out of insults to mentally hurl at Robayne, and there was no one else in the immediate vicinity.

I wish I were home. I wish I were anywhere but here. It's cold, and I'm hungry and I'm stuck with this awful man. But the complaints seemed hollow, even in her mind. Tears of rage and frustration leaked out of her eyes. Doubt only made it into her mind at night, when sleep was late in coming. But doubt, like smoke, crept in and clung. Eylaesa did her best to chase those thoughts away, but it was difficult. She squeezed her eyes shut, and willed herself to sleep.

"It's a town!" Myke called out, over his shoulder. "A big one!"

"Where?" Mathwin asked, peering into the distance.

"Down there, on the ocean."

"Is it Wynchor?"

"I don't know. How long have we been traveling?"

"A few weeks." Joss said. "Maybe more."

"Well, we can only hope." Mathwin said, kicking his horse and charging down the slope. Myke made a face at Mathwin's back, and followed after him. The whole journey had been a power struggle between the two of them, and Mathwin was in the lead again. Joss seemed to follow whoever gave him orders, so there was not help there.

Why's he in charge? I'm just as smart as he is. And I'm bigger. I should be in charge. The fool!

But Myke never dared voice his opinions. The last thing they needed was an all out brawl.

"You know, I heard all sorts of stuff about this place when I was younger." Joss said, pulling his donkey up beside Myke's horse. The slope was too steep to gallop down.

"What place?" Myke answered. Joss had the tendency to say things that weren't exactly related to the topic.

"The north." He explained, giving Myke an odd look.

"Well? What did you hear?"

"Huh? Oh, things about wild men who lived in trees, and incredibly beautiful women. And a city made of gold!" Joss was building up steam. He did that sometimes, and the most bizarre things would come out of his mouth. "And there's danger! Great danger, black danger!"

"Oh no!" Mathwin groaned from up ahead. "Is he doing it again?"

Joss would lapse into phases where he would just start speaking, and didn't seem to be aware of the outside world. His eyes glazed over, and all his muscles went stiff. he seemed to be going into one now.

"It will come in the night," He mumbled, rocking back and forth, "Out of nowhere. A monster with one fang, a demon in silk, under the sign of the sea." Joss lurched forward, off of the donkey, and plunged head first into the snow. Myke and Mathwin sighed, and Myke got down to help Joss.

"Whoa." The fallen man muttered. "Did I do it again? Sorry." He shook himself off. Joss never seemed to remember what it was he had said when he went into his trances.

"Yeah. You started ranting about demons and darkness." Myke explained.

"Probably thanks to Samuel." Mathwin explained. "Remember his stories about Synnhyn, the Ice Demon?"

"Not really." Myke said. He had never listened to the fireside tales. He had been more concerned with Eylaesa.

"He rides the wind, and searches for souls. He's the sort of thing mothers use to frighten their children. 'Don't wander too far, or Synnhyn will get you.' That sort of thing." Mathwin explained.

"Oh. Yeah, that would make sense." Of course, there was no evidence to support that. Joss's rants rarely resembled anything mention in casual conversation or a story by the fireside.

"Let's just never mind it, and head towards that city." Mathwin said. "We have a little money,. and maybe we can find ourselves an inn. Or at least a stable. Just somewhere out of the cold!"

"So where are we meeting this legion of yours?" Khelyn asked, eyeing Samuel doubtfully. The land was very icy, so they were walking.

"They should be in Wynchor." Samuel explained, rapidly losing patience with Khelyn. "And we should be there soon."

"You don't sound too entirely sure of yourself." She said. It had only taken a day or too out for her to lose her meek and cowardly demeanor. But at least she was better than Eylaesa.

"I'm tired." He snapped. Only I would find myself in this situation. That woman had better make good on her promise. Lord Kern has quite a nice ring to it. House Kern. Samuel was only aiding the Lady Uther because she had promised him her lands and title when she became Primogent. And she had only offered because he had been ready to either kill her or ransom her. Sometimes he wished he had.

"So am I, but I'm not complaining."

"And neither am I!" Samuel had a short temper, and even less patience. And women seemed to make him run out of both quickly.

"You needn't be so nasty." Khelyn said. "I'm keeping my end of the bargain."

And she was. She did her share of the chores, and they took turns riding when the terrain was less icy. She really wasn't bad company. At night she didn't talk much, and she accepted what Samuel told her. But they had been traveling for a few days, and she was beginning to get concerned.

"You are." Samuel said. He wouldn't apologize, only acknowledge.

"The lady Uther..." Khelyn began. Samuel hated it when the girl asked about Eylaesa. "She isn't...she isn't a cruel lady, is she?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, my da always said that the nobles, they got their pleasure from beating peasants. He said they'd kill you if you looked at them wrong, things like that."

"Lady Uther won't hurt you." Samuel said. And he was pretty sure he spoke truth. "She may order you, but she won't hurt you." Unless you anger her. Than you'll most likely wake with a knife between your ribs.

"Good." Khelyn lapsed into the reassuring silence Samuel was used to. As long as the girl did her work and didn't talk, he was fine with her. But when she started asking questions...

Samuel wasn't sure how long he could keep the facade up. Hopefully, Eylaesa wouldn't contradict his claims. She would probably be overjoyed at calling Joss Myke and Mathwin a "legion".

Bloody woman. She owes me far more than she's promised me. A small estate is no payment for what I'll go through to see that woman sit on the Primogents Throne. If I even live through this. But I will. I will live, and I will see her pay everything I think she owes me. Regardless of what it takes.

Samuel unconsciously gripped his sword hilt, and trudged on through the ice, in what was hopefully the direction of Wynchor. Khelyn frowned at him, but remained silent. She thought she heard a scream, far in the distance, but dismissed it. Samuel heard, and ignored.

The Vhadhi

They came out of nowhere. One minute the landscape was blank and white, with nothing but a few trees and the forest line to break it. There was no sound save for the wind, and the soft muffled clomp of the horses hooves. Then, suddenly, the air was filled with shrill, piercing cries. White fur clad bodies hurled themselves out of the forest, wielding long smooth shafts of wood, whittled to a fine point.

"What are they?" Eylaesa cried, cringing back into Robayne involuntarily.

"The Vhadhi." Robayne whispered, pulling Chandra to an abrupt stop.

"The what?"

"The wild people I told you about." Robayne said.

"Then why aren't we running?"

"It would do no good. A Vhadhi could outrun a horse over the snow easily."

"Then what is it you plan on doing?"

Robayne didn't get a chance to answer. The Vhadhi closed around the horse, hauling the riders down. Eylaesa let out a bloodcurdling scream as she was pulled from the horse, kicking and clawing at the rough hands that grabbed her.

Eylaesa began acting on instinct. She bit at hands, kicked at stomachs, and twisted and turned herself every which way she could. She tried to get at her knives, but every time she felled one Vhadhi another took its place. She spared a glance to Robayne. He was flailing about with his sword, hacking at the wild men. Crimson blood stained white fur, but the Vhadhi kept coming.

Eylaesa managed to free her breast dagger, and sliced at the hands that tried to hold her still. Her shirt was soon stained in blood, but the Vhadhi were too many and too strong. Her knife was wrenched from her hand, and a thick cord wrapped around her wrists. Someone jerked hard on the cord, and she lurched forward, pain shooting up through her arms.

Oh, gods, I don't want to die. Not now, not yet, not here! She tried to struggle, but he muscles ached and she realized she was bleeding in more places than one. She fell to her knees, struggling to get her footing on the slippery ice. Robayne was still struggling with the wild men, but he too was beginning to tire. A man in white leather and fur hefted Eylaesa, still kicking, over his shoulder, and began trotting into the woods. Eylaesa screamed again, but it did no good. She watched, fury, shame and frustration building in her, as Robayne fell to his knees, screaming her name.

Robayne had no warning. There was no noise, no flash of movement, to signal the attack. One minute they weren't there, the next minute the Vhadhi were swarming over them. Robayne froze, panic gripping him. By the time he realized what was happening, it was too late to try to run. A Vhadhi could outrun a horse easily, especially on the ice. There was nothing to do but fight.

Eylaesa screamed as she was pulled from the saddle. They went for her first, giving Robayne the extra seconds he needed to pull his sword. He cut through flesh, fending off his attackers with all his strength. He tried to keep his seat, but he was soon pulled from the saddle as well. He kicked and cut, but the Vhadhi never slacked their attack.

He felt as the thick cord went around his neck. He whirled as fast as he could, cutting the chord and flipping the man over his shoulder and into the ice. There was a crunch as the mans nose broke, and Robayne slammed his heel down an the man's neck. The ice was slick with blood, and Robayne saw four or five bodies lying on the ground. But there were perhaps twenty or thirty of the wild men, and there was no way that he and Eylaesa could fend off thirty Vhadhi. He was amazed they had held out this long.

Robayne spared a glance at Eylaesa. She was fighting like a wild cat, kicking and clawing and biting. Her shirt was stained with blood, and she was bleeding from her shoulder and legs. There was a ring of the Vhadhi around her, whirling their long sticks in a blur. Eylaesa was somehow able to duck and dodge, and block with her small knife. But she soon went down, her arms caught behind her back. Robayne stumbled, and a long stick caught him behind the ear. He fell to his knees, watching helplessly as Eylaesa was slung over the shoulder of a tall Vhadhi, screaming. Blood poured from her back and her legs, and her shirt was torn. The Vhadhi headed towards the woods, seemingly unaware of his captives struggles.

"Eylaesa!" Robayne screamed, lurching forward in effort to reach her, but he slipped on the ice and fell forward, the wind knocked out of him. He lay face down on the ice, waiting for the painful blow of a pointed stick driven into his back. But none came. He slowly turned over , groaning as he did. The Vhadhi were gone, and so was his horse. Six or so bodies lay on the ground, unmoving. Robayne lay on his back, well aware that some of the blood that stained the ice was his. He sat up slowly, muscles tight and sore from the battle. The Vhadhi had gone into the woods, and with the Eylaesa.

"You fought well, Haji." Robayne heard a voice say somewhere behind him. He snapped his head around, and instantly regretted it. Pain shot through his neck, and he squeezed his eyes shut to hold back the tears.

"Who are you?" Robayne asked, clenching his teeth.

"I am called Tanyc." Tanyc's voice had a strange accent, light and high, and Robayne realized he probably wouldn't live much longer.

"Why haven't you killed me yet?" He growled, opening his eyes. A young man, perhaps sixteen or seventeen sat against a tree. He had dark black hair, and lightly tanned skin. His eyes were large, and his nose hawk like. He was dressed in a tunic and breeches of soft white leather, and he wore a long white fur tabard.

"I have no wish to kill one who fights so well." Tanyc said. "You paid for your life, and I will not take it from you."

Eylaesa. I failed her... Robayne felt as if something had been torn out of him. He had been given but one instruction, one task, when he was assigned to Eylaesa. Protect her. I couldn't even do that, not when it mattered. Dear gods, no...

"You are in pain, but your wounds do not seem great." Tanyc said, frowning. "Is something broken inside?"

Yes, something is broken inside. My spirit, my honor, it's gone. And I never even told her who I was. She didn't ask, but she wanted to know. And now she's dead, and I couldn't stop it.

"Why was I spared?"

"I have already told you. You earned your life."

"Why didn't she?"

"The female? It was told by the spirits she would come to us, and her blood would bring peace among the Vhadhi."

"She's still alive?" Robayne gasped, lurching up.

"She will remain living until nightfall. I would take your life and leave now." Tanyc suggested.

"Eylaesa! I must save her." He struggled to get to his feet, but slipped again.

"It would do you little good, Haji."

"No! I must protect Eylaesa..." Robayne closed his eyes again, and willed himself to relax, to slow his breathing. He gathered his thoughts, focusing on the immediate and the physical. "I have to. I have sworn an oath. My life is nothing next to hers. I would die for her without thought. And I would kill without thought."

"You have great courage, and great honor. It is said no man can love a woman more than his own life, but I see proof that is not so. I will help you save the life of this...Eylaesa." Tanyc said, grinning.

Love? When Eylaesa is safe, I'll have to set that man strait. Honor and oaths have nothing to do with love. But she is my friend, and I swore my life to her. I owe her every drop of blood I have, friend or not.

"Put me down! Let me go! I'll kill you all, I swear I will!" Eylaesa screamed. Her voice was getting hoarse, and she had long since given up her struggles. She'd have better luck beating a boulder. The Vhadhi had taken her to a clearing with many large snow mounds. She soon realized they were huts made of snow. Some were very small, and only one dome, but some had as many as eight or nine domes, all clumped together. Many had windows carved out, and holes in the top with smoke pouring out.

Robayne, where are you? She wondered. If this is how that man proposes to protect me, I will have to have a few words with him once I've escaped. She kept up her mental monologue, refusing to allow herself fear. She went through anger, frustration and shame, but refused to be afraid. She clung to the belief that if Robayne did not come to her rescue, she would simply have to get herself out of this mess. She had gotten herself out of plenty of tough situations, and this was no different.

Eylaesa was thrown into one of the small snow huts, and the tall man who had carried her left. She shook herself off, scowled at the blood staining her clothes, and got unsteadily to her feet. She placed a hand against the wall to get her balance, and closed her eyes until the vertigo passed. She took a deep breath, and peered outside the hut. There was no door, but two of the Vhadhi stood guard, each armed with long white shafts with sharp black tips.

Why haven't they killed me? Robayne said they'd kill me... She trailed remembering what Robayne had said. They'd kill her eventually. Panic closed in, and she looked around wildly for some sort of weapon. There was nothing but snow. She doubted snowballs would have much effect against armed Vhadhi warriors.

This is not how it's supposed to end! I have never read any book where the hero is trapped with no escape. There's always a way out. Eylaesa slumped down, clutching her knees to her chest. She was sure there was a way out, she simply had to find it.

If you want to be Primogent, you have to be able to take care of yourself. Think! They've placed two guards on you, and left you in a hut of snow. Perhaps I could dig my way out the other side?

She clawed at the snow, but to her surprise found a layer of ice in the wall. She kicked the wall, and bitter tears leaked out of her eyes.

"Turn." A voice said from the doorway. Eylaesa straitened her shoulders and held her head high. Whatever was coming, she'd face it with dignity.

"Very nice." The man said. He was tall, with long black hair and large gray eyes. His skin was light brown, and he wore a white fur lined tunic, white leather breeches and white fur cloak. He carried a long white staff carved with intricate symbols, and a crystal of some sort fixed to one end.

"I demand to know why I'm being held captive!" She said, fixing him with a stern glare.

"It was said you will bring peace." he said.

"Who said?" She demanded, keeping her voice and face cold and calm.

"The spirits."

"And how is it that I will bring peace?" Obviously these were a primitive people, and therefor easily dealt with.

"Your death will bring us peace."

"Ah..." Eylaesa felt as though her legs would give out again. I will not let them kill me!

"It is a great honor. Or do your kind have honor?"

"I have honor!" She held her head high. Perhaps if I impress them...

"Perhaps. I am called Moawe."

"I am Eylaesa Morgaine de Uther, Lady of the House of Uther."

"That is a very long name." Moawe said solemnly.

"I am called Eylaesa." She said, not wanting to explain the complication of surnames and marriage names to a savage.

"Eylaesa." He nodded. "Eylaesa."

"I have much land." She said. "And much money."

"We have no use for either." Moawe said, sitting down cross-legged on the snow.

"Then what do you want?"

"Peace. For ten long years we have been fighting. Tribe against tribe, brother against brother. It was told, when the spirits came to me in a dream that she will come, and with her peace."

"But how do you know I'm her?" Eylaesa demanded.

"Because she was described in my dream. A woman of golden hair and snow skin. There has been no other woman for months. You are her."

"No!"

"Please be calm. It is an honor. You will give your life to save our people."

"No! You intend to sacrifice me to appease some nonexistent gods!"

The sharp slap took Eylaesa by surprise. Pain flared in her cheek, and she clapped a hand over the wound.

You speak of things of which you do not know. Make peace with your Gods, Eylaesa Morgaine de Uther, Lady of the House of Uther. You blood will be shed this day." he rose and stalked out of the hut.

Robayne, you had best show up soon. What's taking that man so long? Eylaesa leaned back against the wall, working through the situation in her mind. She saw little chance of escape on her own. She shivered, and wished she had a change of clothes. What she wore was torn and bloodstained, and the snow was cold against her back. It seemed there was little she could do other than wait.

"The village will not be on guard." Tanyc explained. "They will be preparing."

Robayne shuddered. Preparing. Preparing to sacrifice Eylaesa. Dear Gods, I can't let that happen.

"It will not be easy to retrieve this Eylaesa. She will be guarded."

"I don't care! I will do what it takes."

"Then I will as well. Perhaps some day I will have the honor you have." Tanyc beamed at Robayne, and Robayne supressed a sigh.

"When will they...?"

"When the sun is almost below the mountains. It will not be long now."

"How do we get in?"

"It will be hard. The place where she will be held is at the far and of the village, on the edge of the woods."

"All right. You distract the guards, and I'll get her out."

"That will not work." Tanyc said. "The guards will not leave. They have sworn to protect her, and they will."

Robayne closed his eyes, and thought. There seemed to be no way out.

"We'll just have to try." He said. I swore to protect her as well.

"There." Tanyc pointed through the trees to what looked like a mound of snow. Robayne looked closer and saw many mounds of snow, some humped together. He had heard the Vhadhi lived in snow huts, but he thought it was just a legend.

"Why is everyone going towards the hut?" Robayne asked. Dozens of white clad Vhadhi were closing around the hut.

"It is almost time."

"Char! The time for stealth is gone." Robayne said, drawing his sword.

"I will fight by you." Tanyc said.

"No. These are your people. I can't ask you to turn on them."

"You never asked." Tanyc hefted his long staff and let out a high pitched shriek. Robayne raised his sword and followed, yelling out the only war cry he knew. The Vhadhi turned, surprise coloring their stern features. It was then that Robayne noticed the woman. Robed in a white fur dress, her long gold hair stood out among the Vhadhi. Eylaesa!

"Robayne!" She cried out, and the Vhadhi descended.

Robayne fought as he had never fought before. Bodies fell before his blade, falling as though they were felled trees. Tanyc was there beside him, his smooth shaft stained with blood. But there were too many of them. Robayne swung his sword, and felt it fall from his hand. Two of the Vhadhi stood on either side of him, holding his arms. Tanyc was being restrained as well.

"You have disturbed a sacred rite." A man in a long white robe with an intricate staff said. "You must pay."

"Release her!" Robayne said.

"You meddle in things you don't understand." The man said. "Your life was spared once. It will not be spared again."

"Moawe, this man holds more honor than all of the Vhadhi!" Tanyc said, spitting at the man. "He earned his life, paid for it, but will gladly give it for the woman he loves!"

Robayne heard Eylaesa gasp, and groaned.

"This man throws his life away for the woman?" Moawe said, his voice full of disbelief.

"Yes. This man has more honor than all the Vhadhi!" Tanyc repeated himself. "It is said no man may love a woman more than his life, but this man does!"

"This is...complicated." Moawe said, leaning on his staff. "It is true what has been said. A mans life is his to do with what he will, but no man throws his life away."

"Shaman, this man does not come from the south." A young man said.

"Yes. He speaks in the manner of the northerners. But what is a Haji doing here?"

"My business here is none of your concern." Robayne snapped.

"Lucan once spoke of a Haji who wandered the lands. Perhaps you are him?" Moawe arched an inquisitive eyebrow.

"I know the one called Lucan." Robayne said, nodding. He had met the Shaman eight or so months before, when he had first come to the Midlands.

"Lucan is an honored Shaman." The young man said. "Even if he is a Firewalker."

"That is true." Moawe said, nodding his head slowly. "Lucan spoke highly of the Haji. They will stay here, as our...guests. I must consult the spirits." He turned, and walked off towards a large snow hut in the middle of the village. The Vhadhi holding Eylaesa, Robayne and Tanyc let go. Eylaesa let out a relieved sigh, and ran to Robayne, throwing her arms about him.

"I knew you would save me." She mumbled, then pulled away immediately, looking confused.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes. No. You certainly took long enough!" She snapped. "I was almost killed!"

"I don't love you." He blurted out, and Eylaesa sighed. "That's not what I meant. I mean, these people..."

"I know. But neither one of us are dead. If they wish to believe you love me, let them believe it. If it keeps us alive."

"If it keeps us alive." But Robayne could still feel Eylaesa pressed against him, her arms about him, her face buried in his chest. Char. I can't feel this way. Not for her.

"Is there anyway we can sneak away in the night?" She asked, quietly.

"No." Tanyc told her. "In times as these, even guests are guarded."

"And you are?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I am Tanyc, of the Mooncat Tribe."

"A Vhadhi." She said, eyeing him up and down. "A Vhadhi who spoke for myself and Robayne. If a tad bit deluded."

"I do not understand your words, but I will fight by the side of the Haji." Tanyc shrugged, and Robayne met Eylaesa's confused gaze. He shook his head and shrugged,

"Well, whatever your reasons, I thank you." She said. "Where may we go?"

"We are not limited." Tanyc shrugged. "You may go as you wish, as long as you do not stray to far. I must speak with my family. You are welcome to stay in the guest hearth." He pointed to a large hut near the center of the village. "There will be furs and food for you." He grinned, and trotted off.

"We will speak inside." Eylaesa said, turning and walking to the hut. Robayne watched her as she went, noticing for the first time the way her hips swayed as she walked...You are a fool. If she knew, would she even allow you to continue "protecting" her? She would cast you away like a broken knife.

"What did you tell that man?" Eylaesa whirled on him as soon as they were within the privacy of the hut. "Why in the name of all that is holy did you tell him you loved me?"

"I didn't." Robayne explained. "He just...asumed it."

"And you did nothing to sway his assumption!"

"Eylaesa..."

"Don't ever use my name!" He voice had taken that cold deadly edge Robayne knew all too well.

"I apologize, my lady." He said. Haughty, arrogant, beautiful. So much like Ramora

"Who?" Eylaesa asked, her fists planted firmly on her waist. Robayne hadn't realized he had spoken the thought aloud.

"Ramora was a woman I knew once. You remind me of her." Robayne said, hoping she hadn't caught the way he had started, the widening of his eyes.

"Why?"

"She was a noble woman, much like you. She was very..." Robayne realized he had to choose his words carefully. "She was very proud, and very ambitious." he shrugged, as if dismissing the matter. "And as to why I didn't correct Tanyc, we're alive, aren't we?"

"You don't love me." She said, her voice still cold. "And I do not love you."

"I know, my lady."

"Good." She nodded her head. She thought I...Dear Gods, let her not think on it anymore.

"I am going to explore. I will expect you to remain here and stay out of trouble." She lifter her skirt, and stalked out of the hut.

I nearly believed it true. Just the thought of it sent chills down her spine. I nearly entertained the thought that he loved me. Ha! Does a hound love its mistress? Eventually. Hmm. And a mistress may be fond of a hound, but never love. Besides, I can barely stand the mans company. She paid little attention to where she was going, and soon found herself drawn to a small clump of young women, who were scraping hides.

"Come!" One said, motioning to a small rock. "Sit!"

"Thank you." Eylaesa said, sitting on the rock. There were six women, five young and one elderly. The young woman who had invited her to sit smiled at her.

"I am called Jael." She said. She was short, and plump with large dark eyes and long dark hair.

"I am Eylaesa."

"You have caused much stir in the village. You would not have been treated this way when I was young." The elderly woman said. She was rather handsome, with a strong nose and long streaks of white in her black hair. "Times are hard. The men crave bloodshed. It does not seem to matter whose."

"Why?" Eylaesa asked. Jael handed her an unscraped hide and a long piece of curved bone. Obviously, she was supposed to scrape the hide.

"The tribes are fighting." Jael said.

"They don't usually fight?" Eylaesa asked. She observed the other woman for a few moments, and then began imitating what she did.

"Oh no, almost every tribe has a feud with another. but many tribes are allied with each other. Now, all tribes are at war." Jael sighed. "It has been this way for ten years."

"But it will be over soon." Another young woman said. "You heard the prophecy!"

"Oh, be quiet Ayla." The elderly woman said. "Men speak madness, call it prophecy, and it is believed by all." Eylaesa looked from one woman too the other, but decided not to ask. So far, the Vhadhi had proved a rather violent people.

"Who is he?" Jael asked. "The man you came with?"

"His name is Robayne, and he is an insufferable lout." Eylaesa said. "He is as foolish as men come, and has more muscle than brain."

"All men have more muscle than brain." The elderly woman chuckled. "I am called Sura, child. We welcome you."

"Thank you." Eylaesa said.

"What were you doing, so far from your cities?"

"Traveling." Eylaesa explained. "We are going to a small seaport called Wynchor."

"I have never heard of this...Wynchor." Sura shrugged. "Why are you going?"

"We must travel across the sea." Eylaesa sighed. To a strange land with a stupid government with more flaws than I care to point out.

"I hope your stay among us is a pleasant one." Sura smiled. "You look weary. Perhaps you should rest."

"I will." Eylaesa said, smiling nervously and rising. "Thank you." The women smiled at her, and Jael rose as well.

"I will walk with you." She said.

"You really don't have to." Eylaesa said as they made their way through the village.

"I would like to." Jael said. "I have never met a Haji woman."

"Oh." Eylaesa sighed. This is just what I need.

"Why must you leave?"

"It is a long and complicated story." Eylaesa said. The poor girl probably has no understanding of politics anyway.

"I see. Robayne is very handsome." Jael said shyly. It was all Eylaesa could do to keep from laughing.

"He is a fool man." She said, snickering. "He thinks with his sword."

"Why do you speak so harshly of the man who loves you?"

"Robayne..." Eylaesa trailed off. I will strangle the man with my bare hands the next time I see him.

"You truly are blessed." Jael continued. "he is strong and handsome, and has given his life to you!"

"Sometimes I truly wonder how much that really is worth." Eylaesa said, quietly.

"A mans life is worth everything!" Jael said, astonished. "A man has no right to anything but his life. It is all he enters this world with, and all he will take with him."

"Eh..." Eylaesa decided not to ask. "What passes between Robayne and I is...complicated." She said. It seemed everything was complicated now.

"You will wish to be alone with him." Jael said matter of factly when the reached the hut where Eylaesa and Robayne were staying. "I will leave you now. But we will speak again later?"

"Of course." Eylaesa smiled weakly and ducked inside the hut.

"My lady." Robayne mumbled. He was sitting cross legged on the floor eating something.

"I will make you pay, Robayne." She said, sitting across from him. "Truce or no truce, I will make you pay."

"For what?" He asked.

"I do not love you." She said, stressing every word. "I do not love you, and I will speak of you however I please."

"My lady..."

"No! I don't care what you have to say. I suffer you only because I have to." She sighed. "I have a margin of respect for you, and I see your usefulness, but that is the extent of my feelings for you."

"I understand, my lady. You don't need to explain anything to me." He sounded gruff, and upset. Well, good. He is a horrid man.

"I want to leave." She said. "I want to leave as soon as possible. Who is this Lucan?"

"Lucan is a Vhadhi Shaman I met when I first came here. He found me making my way from Wynchor to the Primogents Palace. We traveled together for a week, perhaps." Robayne shrugged. "He was an interesting man, and he told me what I know of the Vhadhi."

"As you know one of there leaders, will they let us go free?"

"A Shaman isn't exactly a leader..." Robayne shrugged. "He is a respected man among the Vhadhi."

"I wish to be at sea soon." Eylaesa stood, and looked out one of the small windows. "And I doubt Samuel and the others will wait very long for us."

"They will wait." Robayne said. "Samuel will never leave your side, my lady. He means to hold you to your pledge of land."

"And he will get it." Eylaesa said. "He will get it, with my best wishes. And Mathwin, Myke and Joss. hey will be rewarded as well." No one does anything for nothing. No one. Eylaesa slipped into a small silence. "And what is it you want?" She asked turning. "What will you demand for your services?"

"I want nothing my lady." Robayne said, spreading his hands.

"You lie."

"No, I do not." Robayne stood. "I pledged myself to you, Lady Uther. I am many things my lady, but I am a man of my word."

"You will ask for something." She said sighing. "It may not be much, but you will ask it. A title perhaps, or a bit of land. You will feel you must be compensated for whatever it is you have done, and then you will ask for payment."

"And will you give it?" Robayne asked. "If Idid come to you, and ask a small favor, would it be granted to me?"

"No." Eylaesa said simply, fixing her wide blue eyes on his.

"I see." He met her gaze, his expression not changing at all. Eylaesa turned back to the window. I will know your secrets, Robayne Tristairn. I will pry them from you, no matter what it takes. She sighed, and turned at a noise inside the door.

"The spirits have spoken." Moawe said, glaring at them. "You fates have been decided. Come." He turned with a sweep of his fur cloak, and stalked out of the hut. Eylaesa glanced once at Robayne, and followed. No matter what was to come, she would face it with dignity and honor.

Wynchor

Wynchor was a large seaport, with great sprawling buildings and hard paved streets. People scurried about their business while vendors hawked their wares from stalls along the streets. The smell of the ocean permeated the city. Mathwin looked around eagerly, as this was his first visit to any city of any size. His eyes darted from one site to the next, taking in everything.

"Isn't it amazing?" Myke asked, his voice full of the awe Mathwin was feeling.

"It's just a city, Myke." Mathwin said.

"I've never seen a city." Myke said petulantly.

"I don't like it." Joss said. "It smells funny."

"That's the ocean, stupid." Mathwin said, and Joss was quiet. Boy, those two are pretty stupid. But it is a big city. How in the world are we supposed to find Samuel here?

"We should probably find an inn." Myke suggested.

"I was just going to suggest that." Mathwin said.

"Didn't Robayne say we were going to stay with the lord?" Joss asked. "Shouldn't we go see him?"

"No!" Mathwin said. "Are you that dense? We'll get a room at an inn, and start looking for Samuel." He led them down twisting streets, until he found what looked like a rather inexpensive inn. "Here." He said, pulling his horse to a stop in front of the small wooden building. "The Unctuous Duck."

"The what?" Myke asked, looking askance at the sign.

"It looks cheap, doesn't it?" Mathwin shrugged. "Let's go." He left the horses in the hands of two young stable boys and went into the common room of the Unctuous Duck. An assortment of unwashed, shabby looking men sat huddled around tables. The lighting was dim, and the reek of old alcohol permeated the building. Mathwin walked slowly over to the bar, and sat at a stool.

The innkeeper looked about as reputable as his custom. He was tall, with short black hair that looked slightly unkempt. His eyes were dark, and glittered dangerously. He was fiddling with a small knife, flipping it idly in his hand, and he looked Mathwin up and down with a scowl on his face. he looked to be in his early twenties.

"We'd like a room." Mathwin said, trying to keep the fear from his voice.

"We're all full." the man said, still flipping his knife.

"Then we'll sleep in the stable."

"Come on Mathwin, let's just find another inn." Myke said, pulling on Mathwin's arm.

"No. We'll stay here."

"There's no room in the stable." The innkeeper said.

"We can pay." Mathwin pulled out a small bag of coins. The knife was stabbed into the counter top with a thunk, and the innkeepers eyes fell on the bag.

"How long?" He asked.

"We don't know." Mathwin said.

"Room's ten coppers a night, and foods extra."

"Ten whole coppers?" Myke gasped outraged. "Come on Mathwin, let's find another inn."

"No. We're staying here." Mathwin said. "Fine. Ten coppers a night, and we have out own food."

"You come in before midnight, and there's no fights inside. You have to fight, you take it outside. I'm Kray, and I expect my guests to follow my rules."

"Fine. Here's enough money to rent a room for three days." Mathwin pushed the bag across the counter and it disappeared into Kray's coat. he pulled a rusty key off a peg and handed it to Mathwin.

"Your room's the third one on the left at the top of the stairs. And don't take anything."

"I don't like it here." Joss repeated once they were all in the room. It was small, and reeked of must and mildew. There were two small beds, and a dusty table. "That Kray's mean."

"Look, we got an inn, didn't we?" Mathwin asked.

"Yeah, but how long can we afford to stay here?" Myke asked. "We could have found another inn."

"And we would have wasted time looking for one. We have to find Samuel. He told us to meet him here."

"But what if he's not here yet?" Myke asked. "We'll be looking for nothing!"

"Would you just shut up and listen to me for once?" Mathwin demanded. "Until we meet up with Samuel and the others, what I say goes!"

"On whose authority?"

"On mine!"

"Would both of you be quiet?" Joss asked, "It doesn't mater! All that mattes is finding Samuel."

Mathwin stared at the floor, red creeping up his neck and onto his face. Joss was right, of course. He had to do something quick to reestablish his authority.

"We'll start out first thing tomorrow." Mathwin said. "With all three of us looking, it shouldn't be that hard to find Samuel."

"That's what you think." Myke muttered, flopping down on one of the hard beds. Mathwin resisted the urge to stick out his tongue, and laid down on the other bed, his back facing Myke. The sooner they found Samuel, the better.

Two guards stood at the great archway that led into Lord Alcaer's manor. They were dressed in gleaming metal breastplates and light green shirts. They held long, sharp spears at their sides, and swords hung at their hips. Round helmets with wide nose-guards glinted on their heads.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Khelyn asked, laying a hesitant hand on Samuel's arm. Her dark eyes had gone wide, and she licked her lips repeatedly.

"Of course." Samuel said, rolling his eyes. Quite recently, he had begun wishing he had left the girl in the dank tavern where he found her. Out in the wilderness, she had been a rather pleasant traveling companion, but once in the city she had adopted the demeanor of a snared rabbit.

"Nobles make me nervous." She said, walking a step or two behind Samuel. He approached the guards with a smile, and fished inside his coat for the letter Robayne had given him.

"If anything happens, go strait to Wynchor, and strait to Lord Alcaer. He knows me, and knows my hand. This letter will assure you and any who are with you sanitary."

"How long am I to wait for you?"

"Until I come. If the Lady Uther should be in your care, treat her as you would treat your dearest sister. I swear to you Samuel, if any harm befalls her while she is in your hands, you will pay with your hide."

"I'll let no harm befall the Lady if she should fall under my protection. But see to it she doesn't. And thank you for the letter."

"But be careful. Alcaer takes his title seriously. Treat him as you would treat the Primogent."

"I'll remember that."

"Good sirs..." Samuel began, holding the letter.

"Halt." One of the guards said, placing his spear in front of Samuel. "What business do you have here?"

"I wish to see the Lord Alcaer. Robayne Tristairn of Mariandor sent me."

"Robayne?" The guard said, lowering his spear slightly. "Do you have any proof of this claim?"

"I have a letter." Samuel explained. "Written and signed by Robayne." He held it out to the guard who glanced at it briefly and shrugged.

"That proves little." The other guard said.

"But if he speaks true? Let the lord decide of it's legitimate."

"All right. But if they're assassins, it your fault."

"Fine fine. Ganin!" The guard called over his shoulder. "Escort these two to Lord Alcaer's audience chamber." a small, balding man hobbled out and waved an impatient hand at Samuel and Khelyn. She was still huddling behind Samuel. He grabbed her hand and towed her along behind him.

"Samuel, I changed my mind." She hissed. "I'll find an inn."

"Would you be quiet? We're here, and we're not turning back."

Ganin led them into a large chamber with a handful of nobles standing about. There was a long green carpet that led to a dais. A man with shoulder length wheat colored hair and a beak-like nose sat on a chair upon the dais. A golden diadem nestled in his hair. He was dressed in a green silk coat, worked with gold scroll work. He leaned back in his chair, one well muscled leg bent, the other stretched out before him. His arms rested at his sides, and Samuel could see the glint of heavy gold bracelets at the Lord's wrists. All in all, he gave the impression of a great gilded hawk.

"My lordship." Samuel said, bowing deeply. Robayne had warned him of Lord Alcaer's temper. "I am Samuel Kiren, a friend of Robayne Tristairn of Mariandor." Lords were always very big on ceremony and formality.

"Do you have proof of your...friendship?" Lord Alcaer asked, lazily.

"A letter." Samuel held the bit of paper out before him, and a young noble brought it to Lord Alcaer. He scanned the letter, and nodded.

"I see. You are welcome to stay on as my guest until Robayne and his...companions arrive." Alcaer said, gazing intently at Samuel. "It is not often we get guests this far north. The savages keep most travelers away."

"Savages, my lord?" Samuel asked.

"The Vhadhi. A wild, uncivilized people. They did not trouble you? Good. I can only hope Robayne is as lucky."

"Robayne can take care of himself." Samuel said.

"I don't doubt that. Tell me, how was it you came to be separated?"

"There was a storm my lord. Robayne and...Robayne and the lady were safe last I saw them." Samuel wasn't sure how much Alcaer knew, but Robayne was going to show up with a Lady.

"Hmm. Well, this has certainly been an eventful week. Just yesterday, an emissary of the Primogent's arrived. The Primogent hasn't sent anyone here for nearly ten years. It makes one wonder why he sending one now."

"My lord, I am sure your guests are tired from their journey." A young woman Robayne hadn't yet noticed said to the Lord. She stood at his right side. An aide or advisor perhaps. She was short, with long auburn hair that fell in a cascade to the middle of her back. Her eyes were wide and brown, and her features were very soft and delicate. She wore a green dress of silk, with gold embroidery around the neck, cuffs and hem. The Lords colors. Most certainly an advisor. A slight frown turned her lips down, and her brow was furrowed.

"Of course." Alcaer said. "I will have Ganin show you to rooms. Fine suites, fit for a lord."

"Thank you, my lord." Samuel bowed again, and the small bald man motioned them to follow. As Samuel was led out, he glanced over his shoulder and caught the woman advisor's eyes on him. She tilted her head and looked away, though not hurriedly. Samuel shrugged slightly and followed Ganin through the twisting corridors of Alcaer's manor.

"I don't like that man." Khelyn whispered. She was not clinging to Samuel anymore, but she was very alert, her eyes darting everywhere, never resting.

"It doesn't matter. We have to wait here for Robayne."

"And did you see the woman? She's trouble too, I can tell. She glared."

"Khelyn, please. It doesn't matter if Lord Alcaer is the son of a pig, he is a noble and nobles are treated with respect. Especially ones who are likely to behead you if you look at them wrong. And the woman is most certainly his aide or advisor or someone of importance to him. Perhaps things simply aren't going smoothly in Wynchor at the moment." Samuel raised his voice and directed it to the servant who was leading them.

"The Lord Alcaer seems an imposing man." He said.

"Mmm."

"If I may ask, who was the woman with him? His wife?"

"That was Senria, the Lords chief advisor." Ganin said. "The Lord is not yet married."

"Ah." Samuel said, nodding. "She looks young to be a chief advisor."

"Mmm. It is not hard to achieve rank in Mariandor." Ganin said with a sniff.

"She's from Mariandor?" Samuel asked, peering intently at a wall hanging as he passed it.

"Yes. Part of the trade alliance. King Jestin agreed to trade with the Lord if he accepted a Mariandoran as an advisor. The weapons and timber we receive is of a quality unfound on our continent." Ganin stopped in front of a large door. "Your rooms. If there is anything else, pull the cord next to the door and a servant will see to you." The small man gave a slight bow, and left them.

"What is Mariandor?" Khelyn demanded.

"It's a country on the other continent. That's where we'll be going, once Robayne shows up. Hopefully, the king will lend us his support." Samuel said, looking around the spacious room. Two large padded chairs sat before a massive stone fireplace, and a thick green carpet covered the floor. A bookshelf filled with books stood against a wall. Velvet green curtains hung on either side of a large window, and small shelves held various pieces of pottery. He glanced at Khelyn and saw her eyes were wide as saucers.

"Nice, isn't it?" He asked, nonchalantly.

"It's so big." She whispered. Samuel laughed, and pushed open the wooded door on the far side of the room. It led to the bedroom, with a large canopied bed and a wooden chest. Again, the dominating color was green.

"A bit full of himself isn't he?" Samuel muttered, fingering the green ornamentation on the wardrobe.

"Samuel?" Khelyn said, joining him in the bedroom. "There's only one bedroom. And only one bed."

"Hmm." She was right. Obviously Alcaer had assumed they were together.

"What are we going to do?" She asked.

"I don't know. I suppose we could share the bed. It's large enough for both of us. I have been on the road for weeks, and I am not giving up the chance to sleep in a real bed."

"All right." She said. "We'll share." She shifted from one foot to the other, her eyes fixed on the floor.

"Oh, for the gods sake." Samuel sighed. "I mean you no offense, but I have no interest in you in that sense."

"Good." Khelyn said, tilting her chin up. "I am a respectable woman."

"I never implied you weren't. I for one would enjoy a bath. And a fire in the fireplace."

'Which one?" Khelyn asked. There was a fireplace in the bedroom and the sitting room.

"Both of them." He said, going into the sitting room and pulling on the gold cord. "I have no idea how long we'll be here, but I have every intention of taking full advantage of Lord Alcaer's generosity."

"I would not divulge so much information, my lord." Senria said, her brows furrowing slightly.

"Senria, I thank you for your concern, but if Robayne trusts them I certainly have no reason not to." Alcaer said, patting his advisors hand idly. Senria frowned in disgust, but hid it as best she could.

"The letter they provided was flimsy proof, at best." Senria explained patiently. "You must learn to use discretion."

"Senria, I listen to your advise, but I don't have to take it." Alcaer glanced at her, and she saw his eyes were hard. He was angry.

"As you say my lord. I am only doing what I feel is best. For you and your city." Senria inclined her head slightly. Lord Alcaer was hardly fit the title. He was an arrogant, self centered lay about. If they were in Mariandor, he would most likely be a stable hand or some such.

"As am I." Alcaer said. "Thank you for your council. You may leave me now." He waved his hand dismissively and Senria inclined her head slightly before leaving Alcaer. She was his advisor, but the final decision was his. And Lord Alcaer could be an extremely stubborn man. Most Midland nobles were very proud from what Senria had observed.

It was not wise, giving so mush information so freely. Senria sighed, heading for the library. The Primogent had to have had a good reason for suddenly breaking the salutary neglect Wynchor has been enjoying. But the lord will do as he will do, if for no other reason then to be contrary.

"Lady Senria." Ganin, the servant said, bowing.

"Ganin." She said, pausing. "Are the lords guest settled?"

"Yes milady."

"And are they comfortable?"

"Yes milady."

"Did they give any reason as to why they were here?" Ganin was a good man, and loyal to his lord, and his lord's advisor.

"No, milady. Though they did express an interest in you."

"Oh?"

"Well, it was the man. He inquired after you." Ganin gave a small dry chuckle. "He was under the impression you were the lords wife. I set him strait."

"Thank you." Senria said idly.

"But, something did strike me as odd." Ganin continued, almost to himself. "They claimed to be friends of Lord Tristairn, yet they were quite ignorant of Mariandoran ways."

"Were they?" Senria let a small smile play across her lips. She had known these visitors were more than they claimed.

"I'm sure it was nothing." Ganin said, sniffing.

"Certainly." Senria smiled, and inclined her head to him in dismissal. Ganin bowed, and continued on his way.

What is Robayne playing at? That was his hand, I will give them that. But Robayne rarely trusts others to anything. And Samuel mentioned a lady. There is something amiss here. I must speak with Robayne when he arrives. Senria pushed open the door to the library and tucked the problem away in a corner of her mind. There would be time for that, eventually.

"Any luck?" Mathwin asked, when Joss entered their cramped room.

"None." He shrugged. "No ones seen Samuel, Robayne or Lady Uther."

"Char."

"Maybe none of them are here yet." Joss suggested. "Or maybe Myke's found them."

"Myke couldn't find a mountain if he was standing in front of it." Mathwin mumbled.

"Hey!" Joss said, setting his lips to a firm line. "You and Myke have done nothing but fight since we split up. And I'm tired of it. All day, yelling and yelling. It's not getting us anywhere. It's not right!"

"Joss, Myke and I have always fought." Mathwin explained patiently.

"But not like this. Do you think you're going to get anywhere like this? You're not. You should make peace."

"Fine." Mathwin said. The nerve of him. I'm not going to be ordered around by a half-wit.

"Good." Joss said, nodding. "Good."

"I guess we should keep looking."

"I guess we should." Joss sat on the bed. "But what if...what if there's nothing to find?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if no one but us made it? People die in storms like that."

"For the gods sake, Joss, they made it. Samuel can take care of himself if he's surrounded by twenty armed guards and has both hands tied behind his back. And Robayne would never let anything happen to Lady Uther."

:I guess you're right. But what if they're lost?"

"Joss! They're fine." Mathwin said in what he hoped was a firm and commanding voice.

"You're probably right. I'll g out and look some more." Joss gave Mathwin a weak grin and left.

Of course they all made it. Mathwin told himself. But Joss had planted the seed of doubt. There was a chance that they hadn't made it. Mathwin didn't like admitting it, but it was the simple truth. Samuel was capable, true, but any man could get lost in a blizzard, especially if he wasn't entirely sure of where he was going. They are al right. Mathwin repeated to himself. They are!

"Samuel?" Khelyn called. Samuel sighed, marked his place in the book he had been reading and looked up.

"What is it?" The last he had seen of her, she had been looking for clean clothes.

"I feel..." She trailed off. "Come here please." She sounded very much as though she were ready to cry. What's wrong with the fool woman now? Some noble probably looked at her.

"Khelyn, please, I..." He trailed off, staring at the woman who stood in the middle of the bedroom. Whoever she was, she wasn't Khelyn. Khelyn was short, with tangled mud-colored hair, a pinched face and a figure like a boy. This woman had gleaming hair, the color of polished wood. It fell in curls to her shoulders, and looked extremely soft to the touch. Her face was thin and vulpine, and her large green eyes were framed with long lashes. She wore a fine velvet gown of wine red, snug at the bodice and flared at the skirt. It curved over small breasts and slim hips, swirling about the woman's feet. Pale, delicate hands peeked out from beneath long, bell shaped sleeves.

"I've never even seen something so fine." She whispered.

"Khelyn?" Samuel said, his voice sounding strange to him.

"It must look silly on me." She said. "But the woman I found, she's the mistress of servants or something like that, insisted in giving it to me. She said it would suit me just fine. I couldn't argue." She trailed off, hands raised in some sort of plea.

"It looks just fine, Khelyn." Samuel told her. "It does suit you."

"You needn't humor me." She said, her shoulders slumping.

"Khelyn, you look every inch the noblewoman."

"I know." She said sadly. "A servant I passed on the way here called me milady."

"Why are you so upset?" Samuel asked, confused.

"Never mind." She said. "I can't make you understand."

"It does suit you." He said again, shrugging.

"You're kind." Khelyn gave him a small smile. She walked over to Samuel and patted him on the shoulder. Samuel caught her hand in his, and held it. Her fingers were soft, and long. Her eyes went wide, and she stood very still. Samuel ran his fingers over the back of her hand in a gentle caress before letting it go.

"So are you." he said, smiling softly. She bent her head, not meeting his gaze. Heavy silence permeated the room as they stood together. Samuel turned to return to the sitting room, but Khelyn pulled herself to him, and buried her head in his chest. Soft sobs wracked her body, and Samuel's arms went about her awkwardly. He held her as she cried, not asking why or even offering words of comfort.

"I'm sorry." She said, pulling away and wiping her eyes. "It's all just so new and strange. I just lost my wits." She sighed, and tears still glistened in her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"You have no need to apologize." Samuel assured her. She is a true woman. She is open and honest, and steady.

"Samuel..." She started to say. but Samuel placed his fingers over her lips.

"I meant what I said. Now, I am going back to my book." Samuel turned away from her, shaking his head slightly. Who would have thought a dress would make such a difference? She is a true woman. Samuel sat back down in the great padded chair and returned to his book, but the image of Khelyn in the red dress, staring up at him with those wide green eyes, refused to leave his mind. It seemed planted firmly behind his eyelids. He set the book down, took a deep breath, and tried to clear his mind.

Use your head man. She's scared out of her wits, and very vulnerable. Anything you do would be taking advantage of her, and you know it. Go for a walk, clear your head. He stood up, called out that he would be back in a bit, and wandered the corridors of Alcaer's manor, not paying any attention to where he was going. He turned a corner, into a great long hallway, not well lit. He started to turn, when he heard something behind him. He cocked his head to listen, and something shattered over his head. He fell forward with a lurch, wishing he had stayed in his room.

The Cave of the Spirits

The entire village was gathered in the clearing. Elderly men leaned on canes, and young mothers bounced tiny babies at their hips. The warriors stood on guard, their long spears and staffs held at attention. A tense silence hovered, and children shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. There was the feeling that history was about to be made, and no one wanted to miss it.

Eylaesa held her breath unconsciously. The dark stares of the Vhadhi weighted her down, and she wanted to cringe away from them. But she had sworn she would face whatever was to come with dignity. She kept her shoulders back and her head high, walking purposefully ahead of Robayne. Moawe led them to a platform of snow in the center of the village. They stood behind him silently. Eylaesa glanced at Robayne, and winced. He had not been given a change of clothing, and his coat was torn and stained with dried blood. Eylaesa smoothed the soft suede of her white skirt without thinking. Moawe held up his intricately carved staff and began speaking.

"These two are outsiders, Haji!" Eylaesa made a mental note to ask exactly what that word meant. "They have cause great stir among our people. The man has turned one of our own against us!" Tanyc, the young Vhadhi who had come with Robayne was brought forward. The stony faces turned to disgust. "The female was to be our salvation. Her coming was told in the spirit dreams, the first dreams, the words of our ancestors. And she came as foretold."

"Kill them both!" A man shouted from the crowd. Eylaesa wanted to cry, to scream, to do something to let out her anger and fear. She drew herself taller and straighter, and focused on the trees in the distance.

"By all laws and teachings, they should be put to death. Along with the traitor who was willing to kill his own for a Haji." Moawe paused, and Eylaesa felt a sense of dread settle over her heart.

"But, the male also has met Lucan, honored Shaman of the Firewalker tribe. Honored Shaman of all Vhadhi. Lucan did speak of this Haji, and speak of him honorably and well. It must then be assumed that Lucan has extended to this male his protection and blessing. And none may kill one touched by a Shaman."

"But the teachings!"

"I am aware of the teachings." Moawe paused, his gaze passing over the crowed. Eylaesa licked her lips, waiting for him to continue. He had to speak soon. All were hanging on his next words, waiting to hear the fate of these two strangers.

"They cannot be killed, but they cannot walk free. It is the will of the spirits what happens to them now. And the spirits power is greatest in but one place." Moawe nodded, and the Vhadhi all seemed to understand. Eylaesa felt better. They weren't going to be killed after all. She glanced encouragingly at Robayne and saw he looked ready to sick up. Obviously his wounds hadn't been tended to either.

"They will be sent to the Cave of Spirits. They shall pass through the cave, and to the Spirit Council. There they will judged, as were the condemned of old. If it is the will of the spirits that they live, they will live. If it is the spirit's will that they die..." Moawe trailed off, letting the last remain unsaid. Eylaesa frowned slightly. Cave of Spirits? What is he talking about. Whatever it is, in can't be any more difficult than anything we've been through already.

"I will give them an hour to prepare." Moawe thumped his staff, and walked sedately off the altar and through the crowd. Eylaesa decided to address Robayne before he fell over.

"Are you ill?" She asked, setting a hand on his shoulder.

"The Cave..." he trailed off, rubbing a hand to his eyes.

"Yes, I heard him. The Cave. Are you going to sick up? You certainly look like it."

"My Lady, do you have any idea what the Cave of Spirits is?" Robayne asked, straitening, and taking her hands.

"A cave?" She offered, shrugging.

"The Cave of Spirits is a...A test of sorts. And no one comes back."

"You're exaggerating." Eylaesa said, pulling away. Tanyc trotted over, his face looking grave.

"I am sorry, Haji." He said to Robayne. "I did not know."

"It's not your fault."

"What is the problem with this cave? It's a cave! I've been in caves before."

"The Cave of Spirits is no ordinary cave. It is where the ancestors, the great ones dwell." Tanyc explained. "In the time Before, those condemned of serious crimes were sent to be judged by the spirits. The spirits spared no one."

"Oh." Eylaesa said. Well. Perhaps it's not worse that anything we've experienced. But we haven't died yet. She pushed the fact that she had no clue what had befallen Samuel or the rest to the back of her mind.

"An hour." Robayne said, scrubbing his face with his hands.

"Has anyone seen to your wounds?" Eylaesa asked, peering at the blood on his coat.

"No."

"Humph. I'll look after them. If we have to run, I don't want you dragging us down." She said, walking determinedly to the hut where they were staying. "Sit down and take off your shirt."

"I'm fine." Robayne protested.

"You are not. Must I tie you down?" Fool, fool man! I am offering help! Why is he being so stubborn?

"I am fine. We must pack, and be off." Robayne said, grabbing a white suede pack, and shoving food and blankets into it.

"If you are going to be like this..." Eylaesa bit her bottom lip. I've seen injured men before. Perhaps the next time we stop. I don't want him falling down dead on me.

"Eylaesa? Robayne?" It was Tanyc. "I have come to see you to the cave."

"Thank you." Eylaesa said. Tanyc held out a bundle which Eylaesa took gratefully. "Jael wished me to give this to you. It is herbs, and clothing. For your journey."

"Tell her I thank her." Eylaesa said, slinging the pack over her shoulder. "Robayne?"

"I'm ready." He said. "I'm ready."

"The cave is about a two hour journey from here." Tanyc explained. Eylaesa glanced around nervously, expecting to see crowds of people gathered around, but the village was strangely empty.

"Where is everyone?" She asked.

"They fear the spirits. No one has been sent to the cave in centuries. Some think we may be inviting the anger of the spirits." Tanyc shrugged.

"Why did you stop sending people?" Eylaesa asked.

"We saw no point to. No one ever returned. It was decided that our judgment was as good as that of the spirits."

"Oh." Eylaesa shook off the feeling of dread that settled over her. She told herself agian that whatever was in this cave, she and Robayne could handle it. Couldn't they?

Char it! Robayne gasped as white hot pain shot through him. He had lied to Eylaesa. His wounds were bad, and hadn't been treated. And he still wasn't sure why he had turned down her offer of help.

Well, what does she know of healing? Of course, you once thought what does she know of defense, and you learned she knew quite a lot. Oh, gods...

"Robayne?" Eylaesa turned her head, cocking it to one side.

"I tripped." He mumbled, straitening. "The path is rocky."

"Hmm." Was all she said. Tanyc continued to lead. They had been traveling for about an hour, and had begun climbing up a steep mountain. According to Tanyc, the cave was only an hour away, and set deep in the mountainside.

The Cave of Spirits. Only with our luck could this have happened. The Vhadhi haven't sent anyone there in centuries. We're the first. Only us. Robayne sighed. He could tell Eylaesa was hardly bothered at all. Nothing much seemed to phase the woman. Except potential sacrifice. Other than that...Robayne chewed absently at his bottom lip. Ramora had feared little, as well. Robayne caught himself, realizing what he had been thinking. he had found himself comparing the two women more and more. But the comparison was unavoidable. They were alike in so many respects. In manner, in speech, even in movement.

Ramora was a noblewoman as well. She earned her right, though. She was born of a swineherd and a farmwife. Last I saw her she had gained herself a place in the king's household. Who knows what she has accomplished by now. But Eylaesa has lived her life in the lap of luxury. To think two very different women could be so very alike...

"Are you listening t a word I say?" Eylaesa demanded.

"Pardon?" Robayne hadn't even noticed she had been speaking.

"Obviously not."

"I'm sorry, my lady." He apologized. "You were saying?"

"It doesn't matter now." She said, scowling. "We'll be at the cave soon."

"Is that it?" Robayne asked, staring up at a great cavernous opening above them.

"Of course it is." Eylaesa snapped. "How many caves d you think tehre are in this mountain?"

Robayne mumbled something unintelligible and followed after Eylaesa. It amazed him how much she tried his nerves. And yet, his patience with her had only grown. She was a many layered woman, and hard.

"I must leave you now." Tanyc said, as they stood at the mouth of the cave. "I can go no farther. I wish you both luck. When you return, you must tell me all you encounter."

"We will." Robayne promised, clasping the other man about the arms. Tanyc returned the embrace, and grinned, before loping off down the mountain side.

"Well?" Eylaesa said, standing before the entrance. The mouth was dark, and Robayne couldn't see far into the cave. He pulled a torch from his pack, and lit it.

"Ready." He handed the torch to Eylaesa, who had held out her hand for it. It was obvious she wished to be the leader. She held the torch ahead of her, and stepped into the cave.

It really isn't that different from other caves. Robayne reflected, a few feet in. It was large, and unnaturally dark, but other than that it was just a cave.

"I think perhaps we should stop." Eylaesa said.

"Stop?"

"Yes. What ever's down there, I'd rather face well rested."

"Good point. I could do with a rest." Robayne lowered himself to the ground with a grunt.

"And I'm going to have a look at your wounds."

"No." Robayne protested, but he knew it was useless. Eylaesa was fumbling through the packs, setting up a small camp. Once she had a fire going, she turned to Robayne.

"Take off your shirt." She instructed, frowning slightly. Robayne winced as he pulled his shirt over his head. He heard Eylaesa gasp, and feared the worse.

"How bad?" He asked.

"Bad." Eylaesa said. "You're back looks like a cat's scratch post. And I don't think I need to tell you about the one on your arm."

Robayne shook his head. he could see the long, deep gash that ran the length of his left arm well enough.

"I think some of them cut down through the muscle layer." Eylaesa continued. "All I can do is clean them, and bandage them. You should have had someone look at them." She admonished lightly.

"There was no time."

"There was plenty of time." She said. "I'm going to melt some snow, for water."

Robayne grunted. Never stand in the way of a determined woman. It was the first piece of advice his father had ever given him, and it was most likely the best.

"This may sting a bit." Eylaesa warned. She held a wet cloth in her hands. She knelt behidn Robayne, and passed the cloth gently over his back. Robayne was amazed at

how gentle her hands were, washing out the wounds. The warm cloth felt good against his damaged skin.

"I think some of these may need to be stitched."

"Can you do that?"

"Yes." She siad, moving the cloth to his arm. "This one will."

"It could be worse."

"How?"

"I could be dead." Robayne said softly. He smiled down at Eylaesa, who simply turned her head.

"Thank you." She said quietly. Robayen began to tell her he was only doing his job, but decided against it. Instead, he held his tongue.

"It will hurt." Eylaesa warned. "Count yourself lucky Jael sent this with me. It has the right supplies." She had picked up a small wooded box. She opened it, and retrieved a long needle and some sortr of thin, translucsent thread.

"You've done this before?" RObayne asked.

"No exactly." Eylaesa said, expertly threading the needle. "But I've done emroidery."

"Embroidery..." Robayne trailed off.

"You might want something to bite on." Eylaesa offered. "I have some leather strips..." RObayne shut his eys, and tried to shut out EYlaesa's deatiled despcription of what she had to do.

Eylaesa attempted to keep up a string of conversation, to mask the fact that she was bone terrified. Robaynes' wounds were far worse than anything she had seen up close. And the fact that it bothered her terrified her. She tried to keep her hand steady as she threaded the needle, and prepared to stitch up Robaynes arm. His eyes were colsed, and she could tell he was gritting his teeth. She had to grit hers as well. Though she had taken up embroidery as a hobby, but seweing cloth was nothing like sewing flesh. She placed the needle on Robaynes arm, and swalowed back the bile that rose in her throat.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled, pushing the needle through the flesh. She tried to keep herself calm, to distance herself from what she was doing. She choked back the bile that rose in her throat as she sewed Robaynes arm up. Fresh blood spurted from the wound, staining the white sleeve of Eylaesa's dress. She pretended it was nothing. It was only a rip that needed stitching. She bit the thread, and tied it off. All in all, it was a rather neat job, despite being so greusome.

"I don't think I can do the others." She said, honestly. "They don't really need it."

"It's alright." Robayne muttered, stretching out and lying face down on the blanket he was sitting on.

"You're sore." EYlaesa said, noticing the tension in his shoulders.

"It's nothing."

"Nothing? When you drop dead, I doubt you'll say it's nothing." She cracked her knuckles, and began kneeding the flesh of Robaynes shoulders,trying to rub out the tension.

"You don't have to..." Robayne began to protest, but Eylaesa silenced him.

"Yes I do. However much I hate to admit it, I need you." She said, hating herself for saying the words. "I cannot get myself through this cave, away from the Vhadhi and to Wynchor by myself. Besides...You are the closest thing I have to a friend."

"My Lady..." He said, turning his head to look at her. She saw pain and confusion in his green eyes.

"I don't need your pity." She mumbled. Ignorent lout. Why did I have to speak so openly in front of him?

"I offer you no pity." he said softly, sitting up. "I don't know you, what you've been through, but I knwo it wasn't easy. I believe my first opinion of you was wrong, and I apologize."

"You have nothing to apologize for." Eylaesa said. "Perhaps I was wrong about you, as well."

"Perhaps you were."

"You needn't be so snippy about it." Eylaesa grumbled.

"Of course. SImply because we are friends, is no reason for us to treat each otehr as equals." Robayne said, thowing up his good arm in an egsapserated gesture.

"I never said we were friends." Eylaesa told him, coldly. He is not your friend, she told herself firmly. You have no friends. Least of all some ignorent, lumbering man. And one who dares speak to you in such a way. The words tumbled through her mind in a sort of hysteria. She hated Robayne. he had made her look a foo land a harlot, and her hardly deserved to breathe the same air as her, let alone have her friendship. He was a savage, a lout, a muscle bound sword for hire, nothing more. And she was just a job to him. And nothing will change that. Nothing!

"You just said..." Robayne shook his head, obviously getting angry.

"It doesn't matter what I said. I made a mistake. You are as I thought. And we will never be friends!" She was breathing hard, her heart beating a mile a minute.