In Which Iata Gives Notice

June 24, 1178

"There you are!"

Iata's brother turned around as she dashed toward him, stopping just short of his feet. She didn't ordinarily seek him out during the day, nor he her, nor either of their cousins either of them--Tavrin's bizarre fascination with the Dovans aside, they'd outgrown most of their base social needs--but she doubted he'd appreciate being kept out of the loop.

Or would he care? Not like he gave her much response beyond a shrug. "Yes, here I am. What do you want?"

The first question ever out of his mouth when she spoke to him, as always. It was likewise with Atala and Vyro, and probably every Dovan sister and brother for miles around. But the normalcy of it didn't make it any less rude. "You could ask me about my day."

"Fine. How has your day been?"

Iata rolled her eyes. "Never mind that."

"Then why would you have me ask?"

Next time, Atala would bring him the news--whether she liked it or not. "Just a notice for future, less pressing conversations."

Brows arched like inching caterpillars, Tavrin frowned. It wouldn't be the last Iata saw of those brows today, she was sure of it. "Pressing?"

"Well... arguably." Iata took a lock of hair between her fingers and twirled it about. Forget Atala; she should have sent their grandsire. "Just thought you ought to know that the elders are back."

NEXT CHAPTER:

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."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Norwan Sees the Ugliest Color

December 4, 1158

There was a distinct rustling sound coming from Norwan's field, and it did not sound like the mere work of the wind. No... someone was there. Someone was trespassing.

Perhaps it was his whore of a wife, trying to rob him of his crops in order to support herself, wherever the hell she was living. Well, no matter where she was, she certainly wouldn't be coming back here, that was for sure, or at least not if the baby was a boy--in that case, she would leave the baby to him, and if she stayed on his property for a minute longer than she had to, he'd damn well kill her. If it was a girl... well, he'd have to put up with Thetis for at long enough to assure himself of an heir.

The baby had to be a boy. It had to be.

Angrily, he pushed open the gate and stormed into the field; to his great surprise, the trespasser wasn't Thetis at all. In fact, it wasn't even a single person.

There were two of them. Two small children, a boy and a girl, playing some sort of game, completely naked.

What was this? What sort of awful parents let their children run around wild at this ungodly hour? And in the buff, no less? And shouldn't these brats have at least had the decency to stay on their parents' own lands?

"What in the hell are you doing here?" he demanded of the two children; startled, both of them hurriedly leapt to their feet. "Do you have any idea what time it is? Get your worthless hides back to your own homes!"

The girl shuddered slightly. "Brother... maybe we leaves now, yes?" She seemed reluctant to look Norwan's way--the boy, however, faced him with a small smile. Norwan found his eyebrow raising as he noted the child's odd, gem-like eyes, as well as the strange black markings on his face. What sort of thing was this? Surely just some painted little prankster who happened to have eyes of a color even more bizarre than Thetis's?

"Sorry, Dovan-man," he addressed Norwan in the same odd manner as his sister. "You see... we plays here sometime, yes? Ground soft here. No worry though--we no eat you foodses. Plants is yuck... gives us rooserly Spanards, yes? Or buttery Frenchs?"

Norwan scowled. "Filthy little bastard! I have no time for your nonsense--either you leave my land with your head, or stay without!"

"That what Grandmama say, no? But she scary--everyone know she eat Grandpapa's ballses after Papa born, yes?"

"Disgusting!" barked Norwan. "Stupid little fucker! Why in the hell would I want to know what your whore grandmother does to your grandfather's... you know what? Just leave! Now--or God help me, I'll get my knife and fertilize my crops with your flesh!"

Again, the girl trembled, but the boy's unnatural eyes widened in what could only be described as excited curiosity.

"What is 'knife', Dovan-man?" he inquired brightly as his sister shied away behind him. "Is it foods? It it a naminimal? Ooooh, is it pretty, 'luptuous lady?"

The girl cringed as Norwan ground his bottom lip between his teeth. "Tavrin..."

"No worry, Iata, Dovan-man just--"

She let out a childish shriek as Norwan drove his fist across her brother's face. It felt immensely satisfying, making this kid finally shut up, putting the little ass-rag in his place; the girl's frightened squeal only added to his pleasure.

"Consider that a warning!" he shouted. "If you aren't gone by the time I count to ten, I'll do much worse to you! One... two..."

Slowly, the two of them backed away--he'd have much preferred it if they were quick about it.

"Three... five... nineteen..."

He'd given them ample time to hurry, but they had not seized the opportunity--useless little fuckers.

"Forty-eight... seventy-two... sixty-nine..."

They were still in the field. Why in the hell were they still in the field? Their blood was on their own hands.

"One hundred and twenty-eight... t--"

"Step away from my children, human."

Norwan had to blink--several times. As if he had materialized out of thin air, there was suddenly a man standing between himself and the children.

Well, if he could call it a 'man'. He was certainly male, his nudity revealed--but it was just as evident that whatever he was, he most definitely was not human. His skin glowed in the moonlight, a strange reddish design across his face. His magenta hair was held back in a tight braid, and his ears narrowed to fine points, like those of an elf.

"Did I fail to make myself clear?" the creature spat as Norwan did not comply. "I understand that these children are foolish young half-breeds who have yet to understand the concept of private property, but as their father, I command you to leave them alone!"

Defiantly, Norwan remained as he was. He was only a peasant, but he figured that he outranked this creature by sheer virtue of being human. Besides, this didn't even seem real--chances are, it was only a dream.

The creature's eyes were black where white should have been, and showed not the slightest trace of a pupil. Their eerie red was the very shade of blood--a color that Norwan had seen many times before, but had never truly noticed. Now, he saw it for what it was; it was the ugliest color in the world, even uglier than the color of Thetis's eyes.

"Wrong answer, human!" screamed the thing as it clenched his neck in its hands, squeezing and pressing as if the existence of the very world depended on it. His airway was blocked... his spine, cracking...

The color of the creature's eyes was the ugliest color Norwan had ever seen--and as, fate would have it, it was also the last he ever saw.

NEXT CHAPTER: