In Which Aspen Is Found

July 16, 1177

Mistress Altharaine was a tough woman. She endured night after night of drunken leers and shameless ogling and paid it back double in cutthroat wit, her insults scathing and clever and just vulgar enough to keep the men laughing and putting money in the family's purse. But in spite of her own effortless composure, Mistress Altharaine was not so inconsiderate as to believe everyone else could handle the men like she did, and after a particularly obvious slip of a hairy hand, one pleading look was all Aspen had needed to win a sympathetic nod toward the door.

She'd been working dawn and dusk and the light and darkness between all this past week, what with all the champions Rona's tournament had attracted. Champions. What an ill-fitting word. Most of these louts weren't worthy of sharing the air Rona breathed, never mind her bed and heart and soul. One ass in particular hadn't been without a cup all night, eying Aspen's hips and gawking at Mistress Altharaine's chest and winking at her eleven-year-old daughter when he thought all backs were turned. He must've been six and half feet at least, two hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle--and a warrior, at that, if his boasts had any credence. What if he was here for the tournament? What if he won the whole damn thing? Would Lorn really let such a monster sleep beside his sister every night so long they both lived? What girl deserved such a fate?

Not Rona. Never, never Rona.

If Aspen had one regret, it was that nothing she could do was likely to be of any help. She had met a few young men of whom she'd approved--if only just--and she'd convinced some of them to enter, but if she was honest with herself... did any of them really stand a chance against knights and seasoned fighters? Hell, chances were that she could unhorse most of them, and some of the other competitors would be twice her size.

I am fast, though... fast, and I have good technique. Maybe some of my men have that too. Maybe that counts for more than brute strength? If only that thought was as hopeful as it might have sounded.

I'm sorry, Rona.

"You a'right?"

Startled, Aspen sprung back in her seat and stared at the girl who'd appeared between blinks. She stood as tall as a man and her tourmaline eyes rendered her tattoos and nakedness nearly unnoticeable. Was she... one of the forest dwellers? "Who are you?"

"Name is Iata." The girl's mouth curved into a smile. Wary, Aspen tried to return it; she doubted she'd even managed a grimace. "You look lost, yes?"

Lost. At least lost left room for possibilities. "Hopeless, more like."

"Hopeless?" Iata's brow furrowed. It must have been more of the language than she could handle. "Hopeless is... give up?"

Aspen cringed. Hopeless she may have been, she would not have it said that she had given up on Rona. "Well... hopeless is when you might as well give up. It's when you've done all you can and nothing is going to help."

Iata looked unconvinced. Aspen didn't think she could have put it more simply, but it must not have been enough. No wonder she couldn't do anything for Rona. She couldn't even define a word. "I know something might help."

Her voice was genuine and hospitable, but in a wishful way, a childlike way, as if she believed all the world's problems could be solved with a hug. If that was how she thought, then Aspen supposed she envied her. Maybe. "Nothing can help."

"No no--this help." The point of tooth peeked out from Iata's grin. "There pond not far from here, yes? Pond with lilies and rushes?"

A pond? She didn't mean... "The sex pond?"

"Yes! Sexy pond!" The girl clapped, her eyes catching the candlelight so as to become almost blinding. The drunks inside didn't know what they were missing. "But sexy pond not just for sexy, yes? Sexy pond is magic pond."

"What?" Magic. Well. Now she'd heard everything.

Iata smirked. "Years and years ago now, Great Mother put spell on pond--make it wish-granting pond. Bathe in sexy pond on right night and make wish. If it good wish, it come true, yes?"

Uh... no. No, that didn't make any sense. "You lost me at 'magic'."

"Magic no lose; magic finds." Her face remained firm and unblinking. Regardless of her nonsense, Iata was no liar. If she said this was so, then she at least believed it. "Tomorrow is wishing night. When dark comes, go to pond and bathe and make good wish. When light come, wish is true."

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