A/N: This is a bit of an experiment. I’ve had this particular character and story in mind for a long time, and there’s enough for a fairly long ‘biographical’ fantasy novel, perhaps even several novels. I’m writing the story because I enjoy it and I think that others might enjoy it as well, and because it kept bothering me until I started writing it. I will be doing about 1000 words a day on it, and it will therefore receive updates more slowly than my ‘main’ novels. But whenever I have a chapter complete, I will post it, and the chapters are probably going to be quite long.

It’s set in my world of Arcadia, just like the other Elwen novels, and concerns Yubro Deerfriend, a member of the same family that Somal, Lonaw, and Neres in Blood and Laughter are from. However, it connects to none of my other novels posted on , and you should be able to follow it quite easily even if you’ve never read them. If you have read them, though, it may add an extra level of enjoyment.

And, yes, the title is stolen from Shakespeare’s Richard III: "Now is the winter of our discontent/ Made glorious summer by this son of York…" I cheerfully acknowledge the debt, though I don’t think this book resembles the play at all.

Enjoy!

Prologue

"Where are you going, Yubro?"

Yubro Deerfriend paused. Then he moved his hand towards the quiver he had filled with arrows again, more confidently this time. His mother’s tone had an edge to it, but the emotion that beat the air around her was resignation, powerless as snowflakes in the end. She would yield to his desire to go out beyond the city again; she just wanted to make sure that he knew what he was doing.

Most likely, he thought as he turned to face his mother. But just in case, I will not let her get between me and the door.

"Not far, Mother," he said. "Out for a little while. That is all. And then I will come back, just as I have always done."

"There are some who say that you have strange friends," said Kimli, watching him closely. Her long white hair hung straight and motionless around a face that held no more motion or life. That was the way that she had been ever since his father had died. Yubro thought it most likely that no life would ever return to her again, and he softened his voice as he answered.

"I have some strange friends, Mother, yes. I would be hard-pressed to find an Elwen who did not have some friends I would describe as strange." He tried to smile in jest. "Don’t you think that some of our friends from the War were strange?"

Her green eyes fell away from him. "No," she said softly. "Those were the days when one had only friends of other kindreds. But no one has them now."

Yubro felt his smile wilt. Now guilt had come to join the fear that she would block his leaving, and that he would have to disappoint Laimerta about going hunting with him. His friend had none among his own people who understood his desire to kill other creatures for food, and Yubro didn’t want to disappoint him.

"I’ll be back as soon as I can, Mother, you know that," he said quietly. "I promise you."

"Your father said the same words."

Yubro winced. "He wasn’t lying, Mother, and neither am I," he said. "But he went among enemies, and I among friends. There is a difference. Please, will you let me go?"

Kimli bowed her head and drifted towards the inner rooms. Yubro remained standing, troubled, for a moment, then shook his head and turned towards the ladder that led from the belly of the great sonor stag to the ground.

I am always careful. I won’t be caught. And having friends outside the walls is a good thing, surely. They tell me the news when something dangerous comes near Rowan, and they would protect me if their people wanted to hurt me.

His spine straightened as he strode across the lawns and gardens of the Deerfriend estates. To his left, one of the fruit trees reached towards him, sensing his earth magic, and Yubro nodded back. It was agreeing with him, surely, the tilt of its branches much like a bow of the head.

Surely everything will be all right.

******

"There you are."

Yubro smiled and jumped off the wall. "Here I am, Laimerta. Are you ready to hunt?"

The black unicorn’s eyes lit, and he jigged in place, tossing his horn. "I am. Let us go. I saw a deer trail in the forest where we might be able to pick up the passage of some game."

Yubro walked beside him, glancing thoughtfully at him as they went. Laimerta looked exactly like any other black unicorn stallion he had ever seen: sleek and graceful, his coat dark and his horn and hooves crystalline. Perhaps there was a slightly feverish glint in his silver eyes, but many unicorns had that when they talked about having foals or defending their lands or someday being reborn into a world where there was no bloodshed and no thought of war.

"What are you looking at me for?"

Yubro smiled. He should have realized that his friend would notice. "I was wondering why you’re different."

"I am." Laimerta was not that interested in philosophy, the one lack Yubro regretted in him. He halted suddenly and stood with his head up and his nostrils fluttering. Yubro looked around, but couldn’t see anything.

Then he put his nose to work, and caught it: the scents of deer making their way carefully along the trail.

"They are near," said Laimerta, his ears flickering back and forth in excitement. He jigged in place again, but managed to stop himself with a sharp toss of his head. "I will go forward and drive them towards you. Use your weapons to stop them." He paused long enough to give Yubro a meaningful look. "I am not overly fond of cooked meat, and your fire tends towards too much heat."

Yubro gave a shrug in return and unslung his bow from his shoulder, stringing an arrow as Laimerta cantered into the bushes. For a moment his hooves clomped, and then rang like bells against the packed earth, and then all was still.

Yubro remained still as well, listening. There was almost no sound, save for the delicate chirps of birds. But there was one strange scent that made him turn his head, slowly, not wanting to frighten whatever new animal it was away.

It wasn’t a new animal, though. A squirrel sat not far from him, staring around with dull eyes. Yubro watched it in puzzlement. Why should it smell so different that his nose hadn’t recognized it?

Abruptly, the squirrel staggered a step forward and then collapsed. In seconds, it was gone, the brown fur dissolving into a thick, brown-yellowish goo. Yubro took a step back in disgust.

"Hinya!"

Yubro turned quickly. Laimerta was driving the deer towards him, and from the sounds, they were almost here. Laimerta was playing the music of a war-trumpet, which he was quite fond of, from his horn. Yubro smiled and steadied his bow.

Then a great stag burst from the bushes in front of him, trying to pull up as he saw Yubro, tossing his head and crying aloud. The stumps of antlers that clung to his head were still small and smooth, covered with velvet.

Yubro dropped to one knee and shot. The arrow passed into the stag’s chest, and the stag took one more step, then collapsed.

"Well done, Yubro!"

Out Laimerta trotted, his horn lowered. A heart still quivered on the end of it, showing he had killed some other deer as well. He tossed his head, and it fell on the ground; in moments, he had bowed his head and taken it into his mouth. Then he came forward and reared, axe-sharp hooves tearing open the stag’s fur. Yubro stood back and watched as he devoured the heart, the liver, and several other organs before he glanced guiltily up at Yubro.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave none for you."

Yubro laughed and took out his skinning knife. "You’re welcome to them! You enjoy them more than I do, anyway. I’ll bring back some meat, and then my mother will be happy."

He glanced at the squirrel that had collapsed, wanting to ask Laimerta about it, but then realized that the goo was gone. He was already half-convinced that he hadn’t seen it at all. He had been up more than half the night talking spirit-breeding with Dandran Goatleap. He couldn’t be sure that he had seen it.

"Skin the bastard, Yubro."

Yubro laughed, and in the excitement of fresh meat, the squirrel was forgotten.