Weaponsmistress

Chapter One: Trine

It was a crisp morning near the middle of autumn when I crested the rise that overlooked the village of Greenfields. The sun was just rising over the eastern hills behind me, brightening the sky and lighting the little town.

I had ridden as far as I could away from the capital, hoping that recent news did not come so quickly do the outlying villages of the Kingdom... and Greenfields was as far away as I could get without crossing the mountains in the west and riding into the ocean itself. It did not escape me that at the foot of the mountains lay the border of our kingdom; I had only to cross it should I need to find safety.

I chirruped to my horse and she trotted down to the hamlet below, where I hoped to begin a new life. Alas, the reality would be much different than what I expected, though I had no way of knowing it then...

By the time my horse and I reached the village, the sun had fully risen and people were beginning to go about their business in the streets. I snagged a passing baker by his dusty sleeve and asked, " Where, sir, is the closest inn that a tired traveler may stay at in this fair village?"

" Well, m'lady," he answered, putting a finger to his chin in thought, " I'm guessing you aren't from about these parts..." His gaze strayed to the longbow tied to my saddlebags and the sword at my waist. " For no-one's ever called Greenfields fair," he covered up quickly, " But the nearest inn is the Oak and Willow, a few streets down. Just follow your nose."

" Thank you, kind sir." I tossed him a copper coin and continued down the street to the Oak and Willow.

The inn was a sturdy building made out of solid oak-hence part of its name-with stables at the back. I put my horse-a bloodred mare I had named Scarlet-in one of the stalls and, taking my bags and weapons, entered the inn.

The keeper of this establishment was a stout man, as most innkeepers are, and he gave me a room for two silver coins a day, plus another five coppers for food and so-called " room service" . After seeing to it that a maid would unpack my things in my new room, I went back down to the tavern part of the Oak and sat down at a table, hoping for some food.

The innkeeper soon sat down in front of me, bearing a tray of steaming food and a mug of mulled ale. When I was comfortably situated with the food he opened his mouth and prepared to glean some information from this stranger.

" You are not from these parts," he began.

I smiled ruefully, carefully wiping my mouth with the edges of the napkin. " Is it really that obvious? But yes, you're right. I'm not from around here. I hail from the east-far away from here."

" I see. And will you be planning to stay in our village for very long, or are we just a stop on your travels?"

I shook my head and swallowed some ale before answering. " No, I hope to stay here for a while, if you will permit me. This seems like a fair place to live for a while, if you do not mind my saying so."

" Of course I do not mind. Why should I mind? I live here, don't I?" I blushed a little, nodding. The innkeeper smiled at me, then asked, " Does our new guest have a name?"

" A name?" I asked, panicking slightly. " A name... oh, of course... um... Trine. Trine... er... Greyheart."

The innkeeper gave me a strange look before shaking my hand. " I am Jack. You may call on me if you ever need assistance, Lady Greyheart. Oh, and one more thing..." He stood up to leave and smiled kindly down at me. " Welcome to Greenfields."

Chapter Two: Ayla

The lady's bags appeared to contain not much, and yet were very heavy; so I discovered when I took them up to her room. As a maid-of-all-trades at the Oak and Willow, it was my duty to keep customers' rooms clean, and keep them happy as well-for a happy patron was a paying patron, as I had been taught at a young age.

Curious, and with my small gift of thieves' power telling me that no one would be coming up the stairs for some time, I dared a peek into her packs, wondering what I would find. A stranger was not seen often in this village, given its distance from any main ports or cities; therefore, when one did arrive, it was a cause for great excitement and gossip.

" Gods save us all," I whispered when I opened the bags and discovered all sorts of weaponry, the likes of which I had never seen in all my nineteen years. The sword and the longbow I had already seen, but beneath the well-worn leather were hidden several throwing knives, at least two daggers, five or so odd little star-shaped things that were very sharp on their points, among other weapons I dared not touch.

My awe at the arsenal was such that I didn't notice the warning my gift gave me, and so I jumped and squeaked when I heard the door open and a justifiably outraged voice demand, " What are you doing?"

I dropped the flap and leaped to my feet, sweeping fire-red hair out of my eyes and blushing deeply. " N-nothing, m'lady," I stammered, looking down and not meeting her eyes. " I was-was just looking-" I realized I was digging myself a deeper hole and wisely shut my mouth.

I heard soft footsteps approaching and flinched, readying myself for a slap or blow. Some guests didn't hesitate to physically chasten us maids, and I did not know what to expect from this strange young woman.

To my surprise, she only put a slim but rough hand beneath my chin and raised my head, searching my eyes. She was not that much taller than me, and her eyes shone with glitters of gold among the green.

I blinked, realizing she'd asked me a question. " Your pardon, lady, I did not hear."

She smiled. " I asked your name. And do stop calling me 'lady.' Truly, I am not." Sadness passed across her face, but so quickly I did not know whether or not it had been just my imagination. She smiled again. " Your name?"

" Oh, yes. Ayla, la-miss. Ayla Féanan."

" Lovely name," she murmured. " How old are you, Ayla? Have you any family?"

Wondering at her curiosity, I blurted aloud, " Why are you so curious about me, miss? I am naught but a simple tavern girl-"

The lady gave me a wry smile, but her eyes were guarded. " I am naturally curious about anyone going through my bags, Miss Ayla. Would you not be?" She did not wait for an answer, but her voice was wistful as she added, " And I am new to this place, as you may have already observed... I would like to make some friends."

" ...Ah." Whatever I'd been expecting, it was not this. I swallowed. " Very well, then. As I've said, my name is Ayla Fëanan. I am nineteen years old, and have one brother, who is older than me by four years." I then said boldly, " May I ask your name, miss? If you want friends, as you say, should we not both know each other?"

Again she smiled, laughter in her pretty eyes. " I am called Trine Greyheart. I hail from the east, and have no family to speak of..." This time the grief was unmistakable. I wondered at it, but did not ask. She continued. " My Talent is weaponry. And yours?"

Everyone in the land had a Talent, a specific ability that often set them on their life's path. " Music," I replied. " I am skilled at all sorts of instruments, and I sing."

" That is wonderful," Trine said, and her smile grew wider. " I have always loved music." She held out her hand, and I gripped it warmly.

And thus a friendship began that would change my life forever...

Chapter Three: Damien

I knew from the moment I saw her that the stranger would not leave my life untouched. She seemed normal enough: a dark-haired young woman of medium height, with the only remarkable thing about her being the sword at her waist. But with my own Talents of prophecy and godspeaking, I knew that she was not at all what she appeared.

She looked so innocent, walking down the street as evening came on, chatting amiably with my sister. I watched from my place in the shadows, unsure as of yet what to think of her. My Talent told me that she would not breeze through our lives, but it did not go so far as to tell me what exactly she would do.

As the stranger and my sister drew closer, I jammed the hat that contained several coins that I had been tossed throughout the day into a pocket, rose in a fluid motion and walked out in front of them, apparently materializing out of thin air.

My sister merely started, her eyes widening, before recognizing me and laughing a little with relief. The stranger, on the other hand, immediately reached for her sword and began to draw it, before Ayla stopped her with a soft word. She eased the weapon back into the scabbard, but watched me with narrowed eyes.

" My pardon, fair lady," I said, sketching a bow. I did know something of manners, despite my ragged appearance. " I did not mean to frighten you." The stranger nodded slightly, but her hand did not leave her sword hilt and she remained cautious. I ignored her and turned to my sister, saying, " Well met, dear sister. Heading home?"

" Aye," she answered. " And you?"

I nodded, my gaze slipping back to the stranger, who had drawn slightly away from Ayla and myself.

When she felt my eyes upon her, she inquired of Ayla with raised eyebrows, " Your brother, I presume?"

Ayla blushed, and quickly made introductions. " Forgive me," she said. " Trine, this is my brother, Damien. Damien, meet Trine Greyheart, a traveler from the east. She is lodging at the Oak and Willow, but I've invited her to join us for dinner-" Her eyes held a hint of pleading. " You don't mind, do you?"

I forced a smile, and shook hands with the stranger-Trine. " Of course not. You are always welcome in our home, Lady Greyheart."

" Trine," she said, returning my strong grip. " Just Trine."

I raised my eyebrows myself, coolly regarding her, wondering what secrets the now-calm eyes hid. " Very well," I said. " Trine."

Chapter Four: Trine

Dinner that night was rather awkward, and although the simple, hearty meal Ayla cooked was extremely good, I did not linger, and returned to my rooms at the inn a short while after everything had been cleaned up. I sensed her brother did not like me very much, and I did not appreciate him following me with his eyes every time I moved.

When I got back to the Oak, I found everything as I left it, which reassured me somewhat. Apparently, not every person in this village was as openly curious about me as Ayla was.

Silently I undressed, folding my clothes and placing them on a chair near the bed. My sword I left lying right next to me on the bed; although I would not go so far as to keep it on while I slept, I did not want to be caught unawares in the middle of the night. Being hunted had made me cautious, no matter where I was.

I lay down and closed my eyes with a sigh, letting memories and pictures wash over me. I had a feeling I would be safe here in Greenfields, at least for a little while. With that thought came other memories, of a time when I was a highly respected member of Court, weaponsmistress to the King himself-

But all that had changed in a blink of an eye. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands, willing myself to forget, willing the memory away...

This time, however, the thoughts were insistent. The bright metallic smell of freshly-spilled blood again filled my nose as my mind traveled back, back several months to a time and place lost to me forever.

Many tales tell of a feeling one gets right before something life-changing is about to happen: butterflies in the stomach, anticipation or dread... but not I. There was naught that night to warn me that nothing from the moment I opened the door would ever be the same.

Whistling cheerfully, feeling relaxed and confident after an evening well-spent with my weapons and students, I opened the door to my chambers expecting my husband to be there waiting for me with a warm bath and a cup of tea ready.

The sight that met my eyes as the door swung slowly open drained all color from my face. Blood; blood everywhere-and my beloved lying in the middle of the opulent room in a pool of it. His eyes were wide, staring, a look of horror and pain on his frozen face.

I heard a sound and whirled, retaining enough of my wits to draw my sword and fall into a fighter's crouch. One of the royal Dukes emerged from where he had been hiding behind a curtain. He was splattered with rapidly congealing blood and had a cruel sneer on his face. " Caught me, have you," he rasped. " I can assure you that you will not live to tell the tale!"

Bloodstained sword at the ready, he rushed at me. Horror and shock slowed my usually lightning-fast reactions just enough for the Duke to get in a swipe at my arm before I brought my own blade up to block. The crash of the powerful blades coming together echoed throughout the silent room.

" Why?" I cried, the shock ebbing as battle-rage filled me. I flung him away from me and went after him, not directly attacking but not staying in one place, either. " What has he ever done to you?"

" Blocked my rise at Court, o' course," the murderer said almost casually, and then suddenly charged me, hoping to catch me off balance. Again we were locked hilt-to-hilt, straining against each other. He was good, but I had the Talent of weaponry, and had been training since I had discovered it at ten years old.

" That's it?" I demanded, throwing him off my blade again with a ringing resonance from my sword. I tossed my head to get the hair from my eyes, and began circling him once more.

" Aye," the Duke said, breathing harshly. " Have you not lived long enough at Court to know of these things? I stop at nothing to get what I want."

Why was he telling me all this, I wondered, then realized: he did not expect me to leave this room alive. Well, he was mistaken. I was not the King's weaponsmistress for nothing, and he was a fool not to see that. Hatred gave me the bit of energy I needed, and this time it was I that charged.

I caught him off track, as he had not caught me. We exchanged blows in a flurry of metal, neither one of us gaining the advantage. I had not fought him before, and so I did not know his weaknesses, but I did know what to watch for that would tell me his next moves-a twitch in the chest muscles, a flicker of the eyelids-soon enough I saw what I needed, and struck.

The tiny opening he had given me was just enough for me to viciously break his defense and cut deep into his shoulder; his sword dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers as he stared at me in shock.

I blinked as sweat dripped into my eyes. " Fool," I said tiredly. " You can never get everything you want." Without any emotion I stabbed him through the heart, and watched as he fell to the marble floor at my feet, dead.

I turned away from the Duke's body and slowly staggered to my husband. I dropped to my knees, carefully placing my sword-bloodstained now as well-next to me before I gave in to the grief that circled me as I had circled the Duke.

I picked up his still-warm hand and touched it to my cheek, feeling tears prickle at my eyes. We had not been married for very long, nigh on two years, but even so I had loved him deeply. It had been a good marriage, beneficial to both our families, and we lived comfortably at Court.

Before my tears had proper time to form and begin to fall I heard clattering footsteps come down the hall, and I looked up to see five palace guards enter the chamber.

I saw their habitually stony faces change, their eyes widen, as they looked about the chaotic room and take in the scene-two men, both high-ranking nobles of Court, and the King's Weaponsmistress kneeling beside one of them.

" What happened here?" their leader barked at me.

I blinked up at him in confusion, my wits suddenly deserting me as shock sank in fully. " He-he-" I stammered, pointing back at the Duke. " He-"

" Enough," the guard said, coming to his own conclusions. " Lady Sarrilene fa 'Silya, you are under arrest for the murder of these two men."

Moaning, I rolled over in my bed, covering my ears with my hands and softly singing to myself. " Hush, little baby, don't say a word... mother's going to buy you a mockingbird... and if that mockingbird won't sing, mother's going to buy you a diamond ring..." Slowly calming down, I kept on talking to myself, shoving the memories away.

" Never liked diamonds," I whispered. " Too cold. Never understood what all the fuss was about... emeralds, and sapphires, and garnets, though-those are nice." I kept up a running commentary on gems and their highs and lows until my heart stopped pounding and I fell asleep.

Chapter Five: Ayla

The next morning I lightly knocked on the door to Trine's room to wake her and offer her breakfast. When I got no answer from within, I used my keys (Jack the innkeeper had given me a master set that past winter) to open the door and quietly slipped in, to find my new friend still asleep, sprawled on the bed with one arm covering her eyes, the other resting on the hilt of her sword.

I shook my head and gingerly tiptoed to the bed, putting my hand on her shoulder and shaking it to wake her up.

She awoke with a gasp, grabbing my wrist and twisting it so that I was left helpless as pain shot up my arm. I gave a little involuntary cry of pain, and Trine blinked as she recognized me.

" Ayla?" she asked, squinting at me and letting go immediately. I stepped away from her, rubbing my aching wrist. " Why didn't you knock?"

" I did," I said dryly. " You didn't answer."

She had the grace to blush as she sat up and stretched. " Forgive me. I had trouble falling asleep."

I smiled at her sympathetically, then turned to open the curtains covering the window. I undid the lock on the glass and pushed the window open to let some fresh air in, then remarked, " It's hard falling asleep in a new place, isn't it?"

There was a brief moment of hesitation before Trine chuckled and replied, " Aye, that it is."

" I'll leave you to dress, then," I said, heading toward the door. " Breakfast is still being served downstairs, but not for long; so if you're hungry I daresay you'd better hurry before it gets thrown to the hogs."

She laughed for real this time and grinned at me. " My thanks, Ayla, but I am not hungry. I will be down soon, however, for something hot to drink. Oh, but there's just one thing-" I looked back at her, one hand already on the door handle. " I am used to stretching and running through some exercises when I wake. Is there anywhere I could do so?"

I nodded. " Outside, in the back courtyard," I suggested. " It's flat there and usually the only people there are the chickens and maybe the hogs."

" Again, I thank you."

I nodded once again and left her alone.

Not ten minutes after I came downstairs, the door opened and my brother came in, no doubt to get breakfast. He played his role of the mad-but-charming beggar well enough that he could usually wheedle a free meal out of Jack or one of the other maids, but not me. Sometimes I might take pity on him and cut the price a little, but not today. I was still rather angry with him for the way he had acted last night, and in no mood to speak to him again so soon.

I had scolded him roundly after Trine had left, telling him off for behaving so rudely in front of a guest who was new to this village and needed friends. It did not matter that he was four years my senior; when I got angry, I got angry. Damien and many of the village lads had always teased me that it was my fiery hair that lent me my matching temper; I didn't know about that, but I did know that I had left my brother meek as a kitten the night before.

I rolled my eyes as Damien approached me with a winning grin. " What d'you want?" I demanded, leaving the table I'd been waiting on and sweeping past him to go behind the bar, reaching for a bottle of mead-his entrance had reminded me of Trine's request for a warm drink after she'd finished exercising.

" I would apologize to you, my dear sister," he said, leaning nonchalantly over the bar, his somber voice not matching his dancing eyes. " I acted badly last night, and I am sorry. Please forgive me."

I glared at him as I spun past again to enter the kitchen, handing the bottle to the head cook so he could heat it. Many of our patrons liked hot mead or spiced wine for breakfast; therefore we generally tried our best to keep up a supply. " It is not my forgiveness you need," I snapped when I emerged from the kitchen, " but Trine's. She's out in the courtyard, I believe. Go talk to her and leave me be."

Chapter Six: Damien

Following my sister's advice, I went out the back door of the Oak and Willow and entered the courtyard, where I stopped and stared at the sight that met my eyes.

The stranger to whom I was to apologize, Trine Greyheart, was indeed in the yard, but she was not completely alone. Silver blades flashed around her as her arms wove in and out in movements too quick for my eyes to follow. Her hair was tightly bound up high, to keep it out of her eyes as she trained. I leaned back against the door to the courtyard and watched her, fascinated. She looked like she was dancing, her feet moving in and out in an odd pattern, which I soon realized was meant to stretch out every muscle in her legs. I narrowed my eyes as she went on; something about her looked oddly familiar, but I couldn't place it exactly.

After a few more minutes of this odd dance she stopped, rising fluidly out of a crouch and abruptly throwing both blades into a tree at the opposite end of the courtyard. Breathing hard, she bent over, gripping her knees and lightly bouncing up and down on her heels to cool off.

I clapped my hands together quietly, applauding her grace and style. Without warning she got up and whirled, reaching into her sleeve, pulling something out and flinging it at me before I could even blink.

An eight-pointed metal star embedded itself in the wood beside my right ear, missing me by a hair's breadth. Not daring to move, I stared at it out of the corner of my eyes and swallowed hard.

It took a moment for Trine to recognize me, and when she did, she sighed. Apparently I was not on her list of favorite people at the moment. " Oh, it's you. I apologize for frightening you; I did not know who it was and I do not like to be surprised."

" I-I can see that," I said wryly, still barely breathing.

Her jaw tightened in irritation, but she said nothing, only marched toward me like an angry cat. " I would appreciate it much if you could lower yourself to move," she said, her voice almost an angry hiss, when she was about a foot away from me. I obliged, and she stepped forward to yank the throwing star out of the wall.

" Thank you." She stalked away, then paused. Without looking back at me she said rather haughtily, " And close your mouth; it's unbecoming to leave it hanging open like that."

I clamped my jaws shut and made a face at her before I went after her, following her around as she picked up the various weapons lying around the courtyard. " I came to apologize," I informed the back of her head. " I wanted to ask your forgiveness for the way I acted yesterday night."

She turned to face me then, wiping her face with her sleeve. " All right," she said amiably. " So ask."

I sighed but refrained from rolling my eyes. " I would have your pardon, my lady," I said formally. " I was rude and callous to you this past evening, and I apologize." I bowed.

When I rose, Trine was smiling, impressed. " You speak like a courtier," she commented. " Have you ever been to Court?"

" Once," I replied. " Just in my tenth year, for the Great Festival, as we are all required to." It was the law of the land that in the tenth year of every child's life, they went to Court during the Great Festival at Midsummer and be introduced to the King and Queen; if their parents could afford it, they usually had their children's Talents and magical Gifts (if they were noble) read by the city priests.

" Ah," she said, nodding. " And you retained the manners you learned? Remarkable."

As I wasn't sure whether this was a compliment or a cleverly veiled insult, I said nothing, and changed the subject. " I take it weapons are your Talent? Odd, for a woman, isn't it?"

She narrowed her eyes slightly at me before she turned to retrieve her daggers from the tree in which they were buried. She yanked them out with a soft grunt (they were jammed in almost to the hilt), and replied, " Aye, it is weaponry. And as for it being odd, who decides what a child's Talent is? The gods do," she answered her own question. " And who are we to say whether the gods are right or wrong?"

" That is a good point," I acknowledged, offering to take something from her as we headed back toward the inn. With a slightly wicked grin, she handed me her longsword, which I nearly dropped. It was heavy.

She left me behind as I got the great weapon under control, and I had to hurry to catch up. " I would know more about you, Lady Greyheart," I said when I caught up to her, at the door. " I would be honored if you would agree to join me for the morning meal, in my home."

She turned slightly to stare at me, her golden green eyes slightly suspicious, calculating my true intentions. Once she was satisfied that I truly meant what I said, she nodded and shifted her weapons, freeing a hand which she then held out for me to take. " It would be my pleasure," she said politely. " But I do not eat in the morning. Perhaps I shall meet with you for midday?"

" Very well," I agreed, shaking her hand and returning her sword. " I will see you then."

Chapter Seven: Trine

Once Damien had gone, I went back inside the busy, noisy main room of the inn and took the mug of hot mead Ayla offered me, then retreated upstairs to my quieter room to drink in peace.

When I finished the excellent mead, I made full use of the little washroom attached to my room and freshened up, exchanging my sweaty shirt and breeches for a clean but plain white blouse and russet skirt. I pulled my dark hair into a knot at the base of my neck, and, feeling ready to face the bustle of Greenfields, went back downstairs.

Ayla met me in the common room, offering me a choice of several meals for the midday. When I informed her I was to take the meal with her brother, she raised her eyebrows.

" He was to apologize to you, not invite you home and insult you some more," she said, sounding a little confused.

I grinned. " I doubt he will dare to insult me again, Ayla. He saw me practicing, and, well," my grin turned slightly wolfish. " let's leave it at that."

" Well... all right," Ayla said, still a bit unsure. " If you say so, Trine. How will you spend your time between now and noon?"

" I was thinking about taking a self-guided tour 'round the village," I said. Eager to start, I said goodbye to my friend and left the inn, emerging into a bright and sunny mid-autumn day.

By the time midday came around, I had familiarized myself with much of the main village. Satisfied with what I had seen, I knocked on Damien and Ayla's door and was noisily invited in.

I pressed the handle and found that it was open, so I let myself in and looked around for my host. " I'm in the kitchen," he called loudly, and I followed the sound and my memory to find him surrounded by steaming pots and pans.

" D'you need any help?" I inquired uncertainly, feeling out of place. At Court, my late husband and I had generally taken our meals in the Great Hall with the King and other nobles, so I wasn't used to cooking.

" No," he said casually, maneuvering around me with a long-handled spoon. I moved out of the way as he stirred a pot of soup next to my elbow. " I may not be as good a cook as my sister, but I can still make a meal without help."

" I meant no offense," I said, slightly on the defensive side. His blue eyes danced at me from beneath a shock of reddish-gold hair as he held out the spoon for me to taste. I swallowed and blinked. " It's good," I complimented.

He grinned. " Surprised, my lady? If you're so eager to help, go set the table." I did so readily, and soon we both sat down to eat.

" So," he began when we were settled. " As I said, I would like to know more about you. You sweep into our home one day, manage to make friends with my untrusting little sister in the blink of an eye, and I would know more about someone who managed to do that."

" What do you wish to know?" I queried, beginning to be cautious. I did not want to end up sharing my life's story to this man I barely knew.

" Where you come from, for example," he said, taking another spoonful of the soup. " What you do for a living. It must be difficult to find employment with a Talent such as yours, no?"

" Er..." I didn't know what to say. How could I explain that I was once Weaponsmistress to the King himself, responsible for overseeing weapons training for the royal and noble children, for the care of at the weapons in the palace, without giving my entire life away?

" I come from the East," I finally settled on. " And it was difficult to find employment." I looked down to hide the flush that stained my face. I was never a good liar.

He was more observant than I originally thought. " You are lying. But never mind that; I will tell you about myself. Perhaps you will trust me more." He sighed. " My own Talent is no stranger than yours. I was always thought to be mad because of it, and have kept to that role simply because it is easier for everyone. Thus my beggarly appearance."

" What is your Talent?" I asked curiously.

He sighed, the humor leaving his eyes. " I am a Godspeaker," he said at last. " That is why everyone thought-and thinks-me mad. I can communicate with the Powers-That-Be, and you must know that that is not the most common Talent around."

I didn't understand, and said as much. " Why didn't you become a priest, then? Your Talent would have been put to good use, and you would have found much prestige and honor in such a vocation."

He looked at me shrewdly. " Priesthood is a noble's profession," he informed me. " I am but a simple commoner. True, far back one of my ancestors was a noble, but that blood has been diluted too far for it to matter." He paused. " Weaponry is generally a noble Talent as well-"

" Perhaps I had a noble ancestor as well," I retorted, beginning to sweat. I wanted to start over here; I did not want my past to haunt me-or at least I wanted to avoid it for as long as possible. One day was not long enough!

" Perhaps," Damien agreed. " In fact, I am sure you did. But I believe you to be a noble yourself."

Panic filled me; in a flash of dark red and silver I had my dagger out from where it had been strapped to my thigh and at his throat. If he spoke anymore, he would die. " Why say you this?" I demanded harshly. " Why must you dredge up the past?"

" So I am right," he said, triumph gleaming in his eyes before it was replaced by nervousness as the well-sharpened blade pressed into his neck. " If you kill me," he said softly, " d'you really think you will be able to escape? For whatever reason you are running, another one will be added-is this so wise? It would be better to let me live and buy my silence."

Incredulous, I stared at him. " Is that what you want?" I demanded at last. " Money?"

" No," he said calmly, knowing he had me. " It was only a suggestion, Trine. Could you take that thing out of my neck?"

Glaring at him, I removed my dagger from his throat and eased myself back into my seat. " What is it that you want, then?" I asked quietly, almost desperately.

Damien looked at me with something akin to compassion. " I would like the truth," he replied. " And after that, I would like for you to teach me to use a longbow-I've always wanted to shoot," he explained in response to my questioning glance, " and finally, I would like to be friends."

" That's it," I stated more than asked. " You want my life-story-" I grimaced-" And then you want to be an archer and my friend?"

He grinned. " Aye."

Knowing I was up against something I couldn't beat, I sighed and gave in. " Oh, very well. Have it your way." We shook on it, and finished eating in peace as I began my tale.

Chapter Eight: Ayla

I returned home a little after sunset to find my brother sitting in front of the fire in our main room, staring musingly into the flames. " I'm home, Damien," I announced, hanging my cloak on a hook just inside the door. The evenings and nights were quite cool, although the days remained warm. " Is something wrong?" I asked, putting my hand on his shoulder. He jumped, surprised; apparently he had not heard me come inside.

" No, nothing is amiss, dear sister." He smiled reassuringly at me as I joined him at the fire, warming my hands. A sigh escaped him, and when I looked at him, I saw worry in his blue eyes.

" Brother, you lie," I reprimanded him. " I would know what is troubling you."

" Oh, all right." He made a face as I suppressed a smile; he never could keep anything from me. " There is something I ought to tell you. As you know, your friend Trine Greyheart took midday with me, here."

" Yes..." I raised my eyebrows. From what I knew of her, Trine looked like the type to keep secrets, and I did not want my brother telling me something if she didn't want anyone to know. " Have you permission to speak of this?"

He made a face. " Actually, I do. She said you were the only other person who could know the truth." He took a deep breath. " Trine is far more than she seems. She is, in fact, a noble, and Weaponsmistress to his Majesty the King himself."

" How do you know all this?" I wanted to know. " I gather that she must have told you most of it, but not willingly-how did you get her to?"

" I guessed that she was a noble," he replied simply. " I told her so, and then she had no choice but to tell me the rest. And as for how I guessed," he went on, seeing my raised eyebrows, " her speech. Her manner of holding herself. And besides," he grinned. " The simplest reason is that I remembered her, from when I went to the Festival with Mother all those years ago." Court children are required to be pages until they turn ten and begin honing their Talents. " She served us, I believe."

" Then what is she doing here, and pretending to be someone else? Greyheart is not a noble name," I said when my initial astonishment had faded.

" She would not tell me her true name," he replied ruefully. " But the reason that she's here is this-" he leaned in close to me and whispered-" she's a murderer."

I stared, then gave a strangled laugh. " What? Do not jest about such things, my brother."

" I do not speak in jest!" Damien protested. " It is true. She killed the man-a noble Duke-who slaughtered her husband."

" She was married?" I paused, digesting this new information. " So I suppose she is on the run from the King's Justice, eh?" I sighed and shook my head, leaning back in my chair and stretching my toes to the fire.

" Not only that," my brother informed me. " This is her third escape."

This time my mouth fell open slightly in shock. " Are you serious?" I gasped. " But that means-if they catch her, she will be burned!"

He nodded, face grave. " Aye," he said softly. " I know." Another law of the Kingdom stated that for the first time a criminal was charged with a serious crime, such as murder, he would be beheaded. If by some miracle he escaped, when he was caught the punishment would be hanging-a far more painful death than beheading. If he escaped for the second time, the third and final sentence would be death by burning at the stake.

" Gods," I whispered. " That's why she came here, then? Because it's so close to the border?" I didn't wait for him to answer. " What do we do, Damien? We are simple commoners..."

He shrugged, as lost as I was. " I don't know," he answered quietly. " I have no answers for you this time, Ayla. I've asked her to teach me archery, though." I looked up at him, startled. He grinned crookedly. " I'll put up a fight if they try to take her." He hesitated, the added in a quiet voice, " She is the only one who has seen me as a human, and not mad. I do not wish to lose her."

I laughed humorlessly. " I suppose really all we can do is be good friends to her. That's the only path we can take, at the moment." I sighed and stood, rubbing the back of my neck. This intrigue was giving me a headache. " I'm going to bed, brother."

He reached up and hugged me when I passed him. " Goodnight, Ayla," he said. " Sleep well, little sister. I will go in a while."

I left him still gazing into the dying flames.

Chapter Nine: Damien

I did not fall asleep easily that night. My mind was full of the tale Trine had told me, and it would not let me sleep.

The first time she'd escaped had been through her own cunning. They had put her in the dungeons, and left her with but one guard after having taken all her weapons and locked them in her chamber.

" They thought I could do nothing without my blades," she had told me, grim humor in her eyes. " But my noble's Gift is invisibility-" she flashed in and out of the room to demonstrate-and I learned to pick locks as a little girl." She smiled wryly. " I picked the lock on the door with a hairpin, then made myself invisible and went to my rooms. I gathered up my things and fled."

" How did they catch you?" I had asked, engrossed.

" I was weary with sorrow and trauma-induced shock," she replied. " I was highly mistaken, too, in the thought that they would not notice me missing until morning." She shook her head at her own folly. " They caught me sleeping at an inn about an hour's fast ride away from the City. As dawn came they had me tied up and ready to be hanged."

" Gods," I said, horrified. " How did you manage to escape that?"

She had laughed out loud. " The rope broke." I stared, and she laughed harder. " That was much their reaction, as well. I wasted no time, and did the same as I had before-made myself invisible, grabbed my things and ran. But they'd hidden my horse away, so I took the head guard's horse instead." She had smirked, proud of her larceny.

" Amazing," I murmured. " And then what?"

She shrugged. " I led them on a merry chase 'round the Kingdom. I left them behind somewhere in the Celedornin Mountains."

She had named a mountain range far to the north, famous for its high passes and year-long snow. I whistled softly, impressed in spite of myself. " And now you've come here..."

" Yes," she nodded. " If they find me here, I'll have no choice but to go into the mountains and live out the rest of my days there. Either that or I'll cross the mountains and find refuge in a port-city... for they are all part of the next Kingdom, are they not?"

" Aye, they are. Have you any plans for your stay here in Greenfields?"

She had thought about that for a while, and then replied slowly, " I was thinking about teaching some of the people basic weaponry, with staves and bows and such. Do you ever get struck by bandits?"

I had made a face; she'd hit on the chief bane of our village. " Indeed we do. They always take the best of our livestock, and we can do nothing to fight them without getting massacred. We have no skills with weaponry at all, Trine. If you could teach us we would be ever grateful to you."

She had smiled in pleasure, and risen to leave. " I thank you, Damien, for being such a good listener. I know not why, but I trust you with this secret." She'd gripped my hand tightly, and left.

I returned to the present and sighed. " Enough," I grumbled, untangling myself from my blankets. I would get no sleep that night.

Instead, I put on some warmer clothes and my cloak and went outside into our small garden, staring up into the night sky. Clouds were gathering in the north, but above me stars whirled, locked in their endless dance with the sun and moon.

" Gods above," I murmured into the heavens. " If you hear me, I beg you: give me a sign of what is to come. Will all end well, or with this intrigue bring us all to grief...?" I waited, but there was no answer. That was the way with prophecy and godspeaking: sometimes you got a reply, sometimes you didn't. I usually didn't. Perhaps if I had left my home and become a priest, as Trine had suggested, I would be able to get more answers from the gods. As it were, though, I could do nothing.

I sat down with my back against a tree and, at last, found solace in sleep.

Chapter Ten: Trine

It grew colder and colder in Greenfields as winter drew nearer. After the harvest was gathered in late Blood Moon and the people had more time on their hands, I began to teach basic defensive and offensive techniques with simple weapons-mainly the bow and staff-to whoever wished to learn, women and children included. They were all apt pupils, and made progress much faster than many of the noble children I had trained back at the palace.

I was glad to find something to do that made me feel useful again, and indeed, the skills I'd taught my students were put to the test far sooner than I'd expected.

As Damien had told me, bandits were a popular menace in these parts, and not long after the first frost not quite a month after the harvest a group of them attacked, intent on stealing our winter stores.

Much to their surprise and chagrin, they were met not by cringing, feeble commoners who knew nothing of how to defend themselves, but hard-face almost-warriors armed with pitchforks, simple but powerful bows, and hardwood staves.

After the rout, the rejoicing citizens of Greenfields threw a party in my honor, much to my embarrassment and my two friends' amusement.

Everyone turned out in their finest for the affair, and I found to my delight that simple village soirées were not at all like the stiff formal balls that were known as parties back at Court. No, here people arrived in clothes they could actually move freely in, and the dances were bouncy jigs that involved much yelling from the men, squealing from the women, and stomping of feet from everyone.

All in all, I enjoyed myself immensely, and found myself many willing partners, although mainly I only danced with Damien, since I knew him best.

When the gathering came to an end, long past midnight, I staggered back to my bed at the Oak and Willow exhausted, quite tipsy after far too many mugs of ale, and happier than I ever had been-this was truly living, not the conspiracy-laden façade that was Court. I prayed that night that I would be able to remain here forever and live out the rest of my life in peace.

Chapter Eleven: Ayla

As the winter dragged on, the snows grew deeper, and the threat of bandits was reduced to nearly nothing, Trine began to teach some people individually. Her personal students included one or two villagers, Damien, and me.

" I want to work with you more on the staff," she said to me one icy morning that I had off from work. " It seems to me you're having trouble."

I blushed. " I don't feel the staff," I tried to explain through shivers. " There's nothing there, if you follow me."

Trine grinned, and tossed me a staff from the corner of the barn where her weapons were stored and where we practiced now that it was too cold to work outside. " Look," she said as she took her own staff. " I'll show you something." She ignored my sigh as we began to circle each other. " Close your eyes," she ordered as she struck.

I blanched, but did as she said. " Good. Now, listen. One, two, three-" Every time she counted she would hit my staff with her own. Before long I began to hear a beat to the moves, just like in a song or dance. A smile blossomed on my face, and I opened my eyes to see my friend grinning back at me.

" See? Not that hard." And we practiced the rest of the morning, with Trine teaching me more advanced moves as I improved. All I needed to do was listen for the beat, and I could do anything.

By the time of the Midwinter festival near the end of Hearth Moon, I was one of the best students of the staff, and as a Midwinter gift Trine proudly awarded me a staff she had carved herself, with tiny carvings of ivy and leaves around the top and bottom. She gave Damien a bow, saying he would break hers if he kept on bending it too far.

" Are you going to come with us tonight?" I asked her after gifts had been exchanged. I'd given my friend a pretty little gold locket that had caught my eye at Market a few weeks ago, and Damien had given her a flute that he carved.

" Come where?" Trine asked, putting her presents away.

" Mumming, of course," Damien answered before I could. " Don't people go mumming back at Co-where you came from?"

She gave him an odd look. " No," she said, and cocked her head to the side. " What's mumming?"

Grinning, I answered her, " It's where you dress up as either an animal or a god and you go 'round the village or town you live in all night, dancing and generally having fun-"

" A night of wild and unrestrained revelry, in other words," Trine said with a grin, her golden-green eyes sparkling. " It sounds wonderful. And the purpose, I assume, is to make sure the sun rises in the morning?"

" Aye," my brother told her. " Midwinter's the longest night in the year and no one wants to sleep, in case the sun won't rise."

" Of course I'll come along. I don't want to be the only one not joining in the fun. What are you two going as?"

Damien fingered his new bow. " Lugh," he said slowly. " The god of archers and the sun."

" I was thinking about going as a cat," I said thoughtfully, eyeing my brother. " Paint whiskers on my face and all that. What about you, Trine?"

She grinned. " Maeve," she answered loftily. " The warrior goddess who beat Lugh when it came down to an archery contest between the two of them."

I laughed as Damien glared at her, and dragged my brother out of the room so we could all get ready for the mumming which would start after sundown.

Chapter Twelve: Trine

The mumming on Midwinter was an immense success, in my eyes, and again served as a reminder of all that I had been missing while living in the gilded world of Court. Since fleeing the capital and my various death sentences, I had seen more than I ever had in all my years at the palace. I felt more at home here amongst the " common folk" than amongst the painted men and women at Court with all their petty schemes.

Damien's stint as Lugh, the god of archers, set me to thinking. Since I had begun teaching the village-folk basic weaponry, he had taken to the bow as a fish takes to water, and I had an itch to mold him into one of the finest archers the Kingdom had ever known.

A month after Midwinter, in late Wolf Moon, when I could stand outside and not shiver too badly to even string my longbow, I took my friend to the barn of the Oak and Willow and prepared to teach him everything I knew about the art of archery.

" You're good," I told him, pacing around him as he looked at me warily, clutching the bow I'd made him as if it were a priceless treasure. " You're good," I said again, " but you could be better." I smiled. " And I plan to make you so."

His eyebrows twitched, but he said nothing, only watched me as I stopped beside him and strung my bow.

" Do you see that target over there?" I asked, gesturing with a gloved hand to the opposite end of the barn.

He squinted. " No."

I grinned. " Excellent. By the time I'm through with you, you will be able to hit that target. It's a circle about this wide-" I held my hands about six inches apart-" And this far off the ground." I gestured to roughly my shoulder level.

When I looked up at him, Damien was staring at me, looking rather appalled. " You expect me to hit a target I can't even see that's about the size of my head," he reiterated, disbelief in his voice.

I shrugged, trying hard to keep the amusement out of my voice. " You said you wanted to learn to shoot," I said, straight-faced. " I'm teaching you to shoot. What more would you have me do?"

" I want to hit a target I can see!" my friend all but yelled.

" But you already can do that," I explained patiently, leaning on my bow. " The object of learning is to do something new that you can't do yet." I eyed him speculatively. " You're very good, as it is. You've noble blood, you said-are you sure you don't have a hidden Gift with archery or some such?"

He made a face at me. " No," he replied. " I do have a Gift-but it's conjuring." He closed his eyes, then opened them and stared intently at his open palm. A red-gold flame sprouted from his hand, lighting up his face.

" Impressive," I said, sincere. " So you've just a natural talent, then. And Ayla? Does she have a Gift as well?"

This time Damien grinned. " Aye, indeed she does." At my questioning glance, he continued. " She has a bit of Thieves' Power-she can tell whether someone is near or not. Useful, it was, when we were children and needed to filch bread or something."

" I see..." I knew now why she had dared to look through my things the first day I'd arrived in Greenfields; she had known I wasn't around. " All right then," I said brusquely. " Time to get to work. I promise, Damien Fëanan, that you will be the best archer I've ever trained."

We trained through the rest of winter, and by the time the snows began to melt and spring began, Damien was indeed my all-time best student.

He still was unable hit that far target, though. It was a source of endless frustration on his side, and endless teasing from Ayla and me that after so long he still could not hit it.

One day in early Seed Moon, not long after the last of the snows had trained away, I decided to try a new tactic.

" Look, Damien," I said. " Let's try it another way, since the regular way of aim and release isn't working." I bit my lip and thought while he waited, leaning on his bow in the way he'd adopted from me. I straightened as an idea came to me, clapping my hands.

" I have a plan," I informed my friend, who had remained silent through my thoughts, only watched me with his unreadable blue eyes. " Come here." I took hold if his arm and pulled him to stand where he usually did. " Good. Put an arrow up and raise your bow-" he did so-" Now close your eyes."

Damien looked at me strangely. " What?" he began to say, but I cut him off.

" Trust me. Close your eyes, and listen to me. You know roughly where the target is, right?"

" Yes," he answered cautiously, not opening his eyes.

" Good. You know how to meditate, I assume?" At his nod, I went on. " Get into the pattern of breathing. Shut out everything except for me-" A smile crept on to my face, but he didn't see-" And where you sense the target to be." I waited for Damien's breathing to even out, grow slow and calm, then asked softly, " Are you ready?"

" Yes," he replied just as quietly, aiming his bow at the opposite end of the barn.

" Then shoot," I whispered.

There was a soft whistling sound as Damien let go of the bowstring. I heard a faint thump as the arrow buried itself in the wooden target that I could barely see.

Damien opened his eyes, and stared. I quickly shut my mouth and left him standing there to go inspect the target. The arrow was stuck in it so deeply that I had to use the knife that hung on the other side of my sword to cut it out.

I walked back to my stunned friend and handed him back his arrow, sheathing my knife. " Congratulations, " I told him with a grin, clapping him on the shoulder. " Do it again and I'll be impressed."

Damien made a face at me and again closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. Behind us one of the grooms came into the barn, leading several horses, but neither of us paid much attention.

When he was ready, Damien again aimed without opening his eyes and fired. This time I truly did stare as the arrow again thudded into the target.

He turned to me, eyes wide. " I did it," he said, incredulous. " I really did! It wasn't just luck, or a-a fluke, I really did it!"

" That you did," I said with a broad grin, catching his joy. " I told you," I added smugly, unable to resist. Damien laughed aloud and grabbed me around the waist, swinging me around in an impromptu dance.

Giggling, I pulled away after we danced around the barn a few times. " I'll buy you a drink," I told him, pride in my voice. " You deserve it."

With his arm still around my waist, we stumbled giddily into the main room of the Oak and Willow. " Give this man a drink," I called loudly to Jack. " This is a celebration!"

Two of the men sitting at the bar turned around, surprise evident in their faces. Drawing his sword, one of them left the bar and came toward Damien and me, a smirk forming on his fleshy features.

Dismay filled me as I recognized him, even as I pushed Damien away from me and drew my sword just in time to block his overhead swing.

" Milady Sarrilene fa 'Silya," the Captain of the Royal Guard sneered with mock deference. He pushed down on our hilt-locked blades so we were bare inches apart and leered into my face. " We meet again."

I was utterly helpless. There was nothing I could do; nowhere I could run before they would catch me. It was over. I was caught.

The Captain stepped away from me, ignoring all the people who were staring at us. I lowered my blade, defeated. I badly wanted to slap the smirk off his face, but I dared not. I looked sideways at Damien as the Captain cleared his throat. My friend was at a loss, staring at me with anguish in his eyes.

" Sarrilene fa 'Silya," the Captain said formally. " I hereby arrest you for the murder in cold blood of Duke Drystan Rheinallt and Lord Taranis 'Silyon. Do you confess to your crimes?"

I shuddered. " Aye," I whispered, having no other option. " I confess."

The Captain beamed in wicked satisfaction and said with relish, " And since this is your third time being caught, tomorrow-you will burn."

I barely heard either the laughter of the Captain and his companion, or Damien's cry of denial as a rushing sound filled my ears and the world went black.

I awoke in a makeshift dungeon in what I recognized as the cellar of the smithy. I heard heavy footsteps overhead and realized the two Royal guards were keeping watch over me, making sure I wouldn't escape. I checked myself for my sword and knives and found they had all been taken; all I wore were my dirty plain shirt and breeches.

The footsteps moved above me. I scuttled into a corner as someone moved down the stairs, entering my cell. It was Damien.

" What are you doing here?" I demanded, terrified he would be punished. I moved out into the center of the cell so he could see me.

" I asked them if I could speak to the prisoner one last time," he replied, dropping to his knees in front of me so we were at eye level. " I brought you this," he said, reaching into a pocket and pulling out the flute he had given me for Midwinter.

My eyes burned as I reached for it. " I don't know how to play," I whispered, taking the flute from him with hands that shook. I closed my eyes and gripped the instrument tightly, praying I wouldn't disgrace myself by weeping.

Damien's face held only compassion and sorrow as he gently pried the flute from my hands. " I know," he answered quietly. " I was going to teach you-but I guess I'll never have a chance now."

My voice caught on a sob and I stuffed a fist in my mouth. His eyes were over-bright too, but I didn't mention it. When I trusted myself to speak, I said, " You are a person of many talents, Damien Fëanan. My one regret is that I will not have a chance to have known them all."

He cursed and wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tight as we both shook with the effort not to weep.

" Here," he said, pulling away and sitting down more comfortably. His voice was thick as he said, " I'll play for you. But my sister wants it known that she is blessed for having known you and-and will never forget you." He looked at me steadily. " And neither will I," he finished quietly.

" Play, Damien," I choked out. " Or I will never be able to sleep." The shadows were growing long outside; it would be an endless night if I could not rest.

He put his lips to the flute and softly began to play a sweet, gentle melody that soothed away my fears and heartache. My breath catching on the lump in my throat that would not go away, I lay down on the hard ground of the cellar, closing my eyes as my friend played on.

" I thank you," I whispered, and fell into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

They woke me up at dawn, clattering down the stairs with their clanking armor and loud voices. For a moment I forgot where I was, until the Captain reminded me in no uncertain terms.

" Rise and shine, milady! Or should I say, rise and burn?" The two guards cackled uproariously as I swallowed hard, my mouth dry.

Determined to retain my poise, I got to my feet as gracefully as I could and stared at them defiantly. " Lead the way, gentlemen," I said with dignity.

" Ladies first," said the other guard with a leer. My head high, I climbed the stairs in front of them and waited for the Royal guards to lead me to my pyre.

" Not quite yet, Lady Sarrilene," said the Captain. " Put this on." He flung a dress at me. It was made out of a coarse woolen fabric that scratched my skin when I tugged it over my head. I pulled my other clothes off using a trick I had learned as a child; I showed the lechers no more skin than necessary.

" Happy now?" I hissed, and followed them after they loosened my hair and bound my hands behind my back.

They took me to the central square of Greenfields, where not too many months ago we had all gathered for Midwinter mumming. My knees went weak and I sagged a little as I saw a great wooden pole pointing upwards into the grey sky. Wood that had been treated so it wouldn't smoke was piled around the base of the pole, which rested upon a platform so that it was higher than the crowd that had gathered-for nearly all of the village was there to see the stranger they had so easily accepted be burned to death.

Damien and Ayla, however, were conspicuously absent.

Good, I thought as the Captain roughly pushed me up the crudely built steps. I don't want them to see me die.

The Captain tied my bound hands to the wooden pole after helping me to stand amidst the wooden bundles. I was glad I had something to lean against, for if I had only my feet to rely on I would have collapsed long ago.

The other guard read my " crimes" off a scroll as the silent crowd listened. " Lady Sarrilene fa 'Silya, you are hereby accused of murdering the Royal Duke Drystan Rheinallt, and your husband, Lord Taranis 'Silyon. For these crimes you are hereby sentenced to death by burning." He rolled up the scroll and stepped off the platform as the Captain took his place.

" Any last words, milady?" asked the Captain, holding a lit brand in his hand.

I swallowed again, wishing I had some water. I gazed out across the sea of faces I had come to know and respect over the time I had been here. " None," I croaked, then repeated louder after clearing my throat, " None."

" Very well." The Captain bared his teeth in a cruel grin and threw the torch into the wood at my feet, stepping away as the bundles caught and began to burn.

" Gods help me," I whispered as heat started to rise from the piles. I whimpered in fear and pain as the fire grew, eating away hungrily at the wood and at the hem of my dress. My hair blew in a wild wind that whipped the flames into a frenzy.

I screamed aloud as the pain grew unbearable, and fell into the darkness that was waiting for me.

Chapter Thirteen: Damien

All through the night after I left the smithy-turned-prison, I paced the living room of my home like a caged cat, filled with a helpless fury. Ayla's eyes were red and swollen from weeping, and she looked just as powerless as I felt.

" I can't do this," I finally muttered a few minutes before dawn. " I can't let them burn her."

Ayla looked up at me, sniffling. " But what can we do?" she asked, her voice raspy. " It's dawn. It's too late to do anything."

I suddenly had an idea. " No," I said, staring at my sister intently. " We can still rescue Trine, and go into the mountains-it's over the border; they won't be able to hurt us."

" How?"

I began to pace again, my thoughts racing. " Steal two horses," I said. " You go to the barn at the Oak and take her Scarlet and any other one. I'll rescue Trine myself."

" All right," Ayla said dubiously. " But-if something goes wrong-"

" Nothing will go wrong," I declared almost imperiously, confident in my plan. " Don't worry, little sister. Everything will work out fine."

She looked at me with doubt in her face, but stood and got her staff from the corner of our main room as I retrieved my bow from my own room.

" Anyone coming?" I asked. We had nothing to worry about, technically, but I wanted to be sure.

My sister wrinkled her nose and closed her eyes, using her Gift to check the road for any other travelers. " No," she finally replied. " There's no one."

" Then let's go. Meet me at the edge of the square when you get the horses." We parted ways as she took several shortcuts to get to the Oak and Willow faster, while I headed straight down to road for the square.

I heard a loud voice echoing across the plaza as I got closer. I could not make out the words, but I knew I had to hurry. I stopped next to an old building and strung my bow, choosing a razor-sharp arrow over my blunted practice arrows. Once my bow was prepared, I trotted to the square.

To my dismay, I found that several more soldiers had arrived in our village-the two guards must have sent a message in the night, calling for reinforcements-and were dispersed among the crowd, making sure no one would try a rescue attempt.

Well, I would try, and I would succeed.

I shoved my way through the villagers, hiding my bow beneath a conjured cloak, until I came to an open space in the middle of the square. Trine was several feet in front of me, bound to a tall wooden stake. The wood piled around her was burning freely, with no smoke.

She screamed just as I yelled her name, and slumped forward, unconscious. Panicking, I flung my head up and bellowed to the clouded sky, " Gods, give me rain!"

Immediately the roiling clouds darkened and burst open. Rain fell down in massive sheets, quenching the fire within moments. God-given rain worked wonders.

I raised my bow, found the calm that Trine had taught me to find only the day before, aimed for the bonds holding her to the stake, and fired. She fell forward onto the still-glowing wood as a great cloud of smoke issued from the extinguished fire.

The Captain of the guard yelled in fury and drew his sword, ready to leap off the platform and come after me. I quickly put another arrow to the string and fired again. The fire-hardened tip of the quarrel punched through the man's armor and pierced his heart. The villagers milled about me, talking in excited voices, as the Captain fell off the platform, dead, and I rushed up the steps to grab Trine.

She was still unconscious when I pulled her off the smoking wood. I tossed her over my shoulder and raced for my sister, whom I could see was waiting for us with two horses at the opposite side of the square.

I knew we had a very short time before the soldiers got the mob of people under control and could come after us. " Go!" I roared to both my sister and our horses, mounting Scarlet and holding onto Trine tightly.

Ayla and I galloped out of Greenfields, heading for the mountains at a dead run. Trine did not move through our wild escape, but I had no time to worry-I was listening for hoof beats behind us, signifying pursuit. Nothing came, but I dared not relax.

We rode until we were well into the mountains, at a clearing that we had played in as children. I dismounted and carefully laid Trine down on the ground before rubbing down Scarlet. The mare was breathing heavily, exhausted at having so much required of her after several months of not a great deal of work. I patted her nose and praised her softly as Ayla did the same for her horse and set up a campfire.

It was still raining, and everything was getting damp rather quickly. " It's too wet, brother," my sister called to me after several tries to light the fire. " I can't light it."

I sighed and sent a conjured seed of flame into the wood before going over to the still-inanimate Trine. " Better?" I asked as the wood caught.

" Aye, thanks," Ayla said dryly and started to pile up more wood, getting a good blaze going.

I knelt beside my friend and gently shook her shoulder. It had been about twenty minutes since Ayla and I had rescued her; she ought to have been awake by now. Perhaps the burns were more serious than I thought-

I checked her body again, but only her feet were badly burned. I had gotten to her before the rough dress she wore had caught and burned her worse.

" Why aren't you awake?" I murmured, fear rising within me. " You're not burned enough to be-" I couldn't say it. I bent over her, putting my ear to her slightly open mouth, checking for breath.

There was nothing.

" No," I said feverishly. " No, it can't be."

" What is it?" Ayla left the fire and came over to us, kneeing on Trine's opposite side. " Brother, what's wrong?" She stared at me fearfully. " Is she-?"

" No, she isn't," I replied fiercely, refusing to even think that she might be dead. " She's just sleeping. There was nothing that might've-that might've killed her. Only her feet are burned. And there was no smoke..." I stopped. " No smoke," I repeated, my head whirling. Horror filled me as an image flashed before my eyes:

Rain asked for by me falling down hard, putting out the fire, sending up great gouts of smoke-smoke that Trine fell down into as my arrow sliced through the ropes holding her upright. Smoke that she could not help but breathe in, as she had fainted and did not know to hold her breath. Smoke that had suffocated her.

Smoke that had killed her.

I groaned aloud, realization striking me with all the might of a smith's hammer. " I killed her," I whispered bleakly. " I killed her."

Ayla rocked back on her heels, tears filling her eyes. " Oh, no." She brought her hands to her mouth, shaking her head in denial. " No!"

Howling grief filled me, mingling with the horror I already felt. I had killed Trine Greyheart, the Lady Sarrilene fa 'Silya. The only person aside from my sister who had seen past the madman act-the one who had helped fulfill a lifelong dream in teaching me archery-something I had repayed her with by killing her.

I had killed my first and only friend.

Racking sobs tore themselves from my throat as I bent over her lifeless body, my tears mingling with the rain until there was no difference between them.

Thunder rumbled in the distance as I wept. My world had come to an end, it seemed, with this terrible thing that I had done.

Ayla, crying herself, could only look on as her older brother wailed like a child. And still the rain fell on...

The End