Chapter One

            Srae lay on the front steps after lunch, her small legs slowly kicking in time with her tuneless humming, drawing meticulously on a scrap piece of parchment with a charred stick she had snuck out of the fire in the kitchen without her mother noticing—or so she thought. Dlami had noticed, but decided that drawing would keep Srae occupied and out of her hair while she worked, trying to get the house cleaned up before Xate returned from his two month long sojourn to Lord Temis’s castle.

            Xate had been training the new recruits and Hireswords, attempting to get them into his idea of “good enough to not get themselves killed and to protect Lord Temis,” which was entirely different from his replacement’s idea. Xate always came home exhausted and frustrated with Ba’Ai for his ideas and his “slacking,” though any other person would be ecstatic with the high standards held by Ba’Ai. Dlami just believed that Xate felt a little...useless, now that he had retired and moved to Annibali to become the mayor, appointed by the Lord as a reward for his loyal service, as well as the local Hiresword Guild representative, rather than the esteemed Captain of the Guard he was with Lord Temis.

            Srae continued the drawing she had started early that morning, following around one of her father’s favourite hunters, hoping to make Popa happy with the drawing when she gave it to him later. Across the street, Iana was arguing with her mother, the miller, as usual.

***

            “WHY do I always have to watch Sime?! I have a life too, you know! I don’t even like the brat!” The beautiful fourteen year old huffed and stomped her feet, flipping her lovely, highly impractical, long platinum blond hair over her shoulder and glared at her mother. “I want to go to the creek with my friends! I want to walk around the market on weekends! I want to go to the fair when it comes once a month! Why must I always stay HERE instead! It’s not like we don’t have money to hire a maid! Daddy left you PLENTY of gold when he died!”

            Her mother, a tired, mousey woman of indeterminate age, sighed, clearly tired of hashing the same thing out with her daughter over and over. “You must stay here and watch Sime because I must go to the mill, to make flour, to earn money to buy all those things you claim you absolutely cannot live without, such as that dress, the parties you throw for your friends, jewellery—if you want a maid, do without, and do something to help earn money, as your friends all do to help their parents.”

            H’shi sighed again and shook her head sadly. “I have been remiss in allowing you to become so spoiled, but it is high time you were married and settled down with a job of your own. Perhaps with a child of your own, you will be less flighty. I suggest you sit here at home today while you watch Sime and think about who you wish to marry. Gume’s grandson, Tume, has made an offer for you, as well as Mta and Jho. As to why I haven’t used the gold that P’ret left us when he died—may the gods bless his spirit—it is because it is your dowry. I am allowing you one last choice. Make the best of it.” And with that, H’shi turned, picked up her much-decorated, but still functional, staff that had not been used as anything other than a walking stick for many years, and left for the mill. Iana stared after her, mouth agape, until her mother cleared the hill, clearly not expecting what had just happened.

***

            Back at the mayor’s house, Srae had finally finished her drawing and ran into the house to show it to her mother. “Look, look! I drawed a horsie! I drawed Popa’s favouritest horsie! Will he like it?” she asked eagerly, bouncing around her mother so that Dlami could barely see the drawing. Dlami was grateful for the tip that Srae’s drawing was a horse, for the child wasn’t exactly artistically inclined.

            “Very good sweetheart! I think Xate will love your drawing. But, I am a little busy right now, trying to clean the house... why don’t you go across the street and help Iana watch Sime? And be sure to run in and tell me when Gume and his grandson are coming, because they are supposed to be bringing me some new furniture!” Dlami yelled after Srae, for as soon as Dlami had mentioned going across the street, Srae had taken off. She loved keeping Iana and Sime company.

            Srae skidded to a stop in front of Iana, who was rocking Sime’s cradle with her foot and brushing out her hair, trying to think about who she would like the best of the three boys her mother had mentioned. “Hi Iana! Whatcha doin’? Can I help with Sime? PLEASE? Moma sent me out ‘cause I was inna way!” Srae spoke in a loud whisper, mistakenly believing this made her quieter with less chance of waking up the baby, who, as accustomed to noise as he was, would probably have slept through a major earthquake and tornado combined.

            Iana smiled at the little girl. Srae always seemed to be able to make anyone happy just by walking up to them. “I’m brushing my hair and trying to get Sime to sleep. You don’t have to whisper, Srae. Sime is still awake. He’d probably like it if you would play with him.”

            To reinforce this, a loud ‘SAE!’ came from the cradle. The not-quite-one year old grabbed hold of the side of the cradle and leaned over, imperiously waving at Srae. “SAE! PLAY WIF’ SIME!” the youngster said. Srae giggled at the baby’s mispronunciations and yelling and looked at Iana.

            “Will you please get him out so’s we can play?” she asked Iana nicely. Srae could not manage to pick up Sime and lift him out of the cradle, which was almost as large as she. She could pick up Sime—with a lot of huffing and puffing and only for a short time—but getting him out of the cradle was beyond her young strength.

            Iana smiled and put her hairbrush down, then lifted Sime out and placed him down in front of Srae. Sime immediately grabbed Srae’s legs and began the tedious and lengthy process of standing, while Srae, long used to being used as a cane by Sime, stood there firmly to give him a good base to stand up with. Sime finally managed to get up and, being a good head-and-a-half shorter than Srae, wrapped his arms around her for balance, as well as to give her a hug. “SAE!” Srae grinned and hugged Sime back, then loosened his arms and stepped back some, being sure to keep a hold on his hands.

            “Don’t go anywhere except right here in front of the house, alright, Srae? And don’t take Sime home with you unless you tell me first!” Iana warned them, and Srae nodded seriously, then immediately turned her attention to Sime.

            “Can you walk yet, Sime?” Srae asked, and let go of his hands and stepped back one, two, three steps. She had recently learned how to count and was very proud of herself for this accomplishment. “Come here, Sime!” Srae clapped her hands and then held them out to Sime, who wobbled uncertainly, not quite positive he wanted to pick up one of his feet and most likely fall down. Srae smiled encouragingly at him and he decided to try it. He picked up his left foot—and promptly fell forward, and Srae leapt to catch him. “OOOF! You heavy, Sime!” she said as they both fell, Sime on top of Srae. Sime just giggled in reply. “Oh well, let’s try again!” She managed to get him stood up, then stepped back, looking down the road as she did so. “OH! Gume’s comin’! I gotta go tell Moma, Iana! Be back!” and with that Srae dashed across the street to her house, Sime wobbling uncertainly in the street, then, wisely forgoing the attempt to walk, got down on all fours and crawled at an amazing speed across the street and onto the steps of Srae’s house. He was baffled by the door, however, so sat just outside of it and whined pitifully.

            Inside the house, Srae yelled to Dlami that Gume was coming, then ran into her room and grabbed her doll to go outside to play with it with Sime. It was a very nice doll that wouldn’t be hurt much if Sime chewed on it.

            Iana watched in amusement. The little squirt wasn’t so bad after all. She glanced down the road at the wagon raising dust, and noticed that Gume had Tume with him. She unconsciously straightened her dress and hid her brush in Sime’s cradle, then stood up and managed to walk across to get Sime, timing it just so that she would get there as Tume and Gume did.

            Srae peered out the door, making sure Sime wasn’t sitting on it—which he was—then opened it slowly, looking over at Iana, who was busy chatting up Tume, while Gume watched in some slight amusement. “Wanna come inside?” Srae asked Sime conspiratorially, and he grinned and nodded, holding his arms up to be picked up. Srae sighed, tucked the doll down the front of her tunic, then heaved Sime up and laboriously dragged him into the house and her room, managing to escape Dlami’s notice.

            “Phew! Sime, you gonna have to learn how to walk soon. You too HEAVY for me to carry now!” Srae said with a gasp, setting him down on her bed with a thud. Sime grinned up at her and she grinned back, then got her doll out of her tunic and put out some scrap wooden blocks that she had...erm...borrowed from her Popa’s stack for carving. “Come on, Sime, let’s play.”

            They happily amused themselves for about an hour or so, before Sime fell asleep on the floor, a wooden block in the corner of his mouth. Srae giggled softly and covered him up with one of her blankets, took the block out of his mouth, and crept out of the room.

            Meanwhile, Iana, who had been talking to Tume until he had to help Gume bring Dlami’s new furniture inside—Tume was telling her proudly that he had made it himself, and well he should be proud, for it was some very nice looking furniture—and then, with a happy sigh, she turned to get Sime. Who wasn’t there. She ran back to her house, looked there. No Sime. No Srae. She went back to Dlami’s house and asked her if she had seen the two, and received a no for her answer. Where could those two be? They wouldn’t have gone down the road, and they wouldn’t go too far away from the houses. Maybe they went into the woods? Iana dismissed that thought almost as soon as it came into her head. Virtually every child in the small village was scared of the woods. She would check in the house again, then go in and check in Srae’s room. Perhaps they had managed to creep past Dlami.

            After an exhaustive search in the house, Iana walked over to Dlami’s house, said an absent-minded goodbye to Tume and Gume, and knocked. At a distant, “Come in!” she opened the door and walked in.

            “Dlami, are you sure that Srae and Sime aren’t in here? I’ve looked everywhere, and I can’t find—“ she stopped abruptly as Srae crept guiltily out of her room. “You! You little scamp, didn’t I tell you not to come in here without telling me?” Iana asked Srae, somewhat angered at her disobedience.

            “I’m sorry, but you were busy talking to Tume, and I didn’t want to bug you—but Sime’s taking a nap now! Did I do good?” Srae asked her hopefully. “I played with him and kept him from eating stuff and then I covered him up!”

            A reluctant smile spread over Iana’s face. “Yes, Srae, you did well, but if you don’t tell me when you take Sime somewhere, then I won’t allow you to play with him anymore, understand?” A look of abject horror spread over the young girl’s face and she nodded rapidly, not wanting her favourite playmate to be taken away from her. “Good. Would you like to come over to my house—I’ll pick up Sime and carry him over there—and we can talk? I’ll even fix your hair for you,” Iana offered temptingly, catching the pleading look Dlami sent her way. Poor woman, trying to fix the house up with this energetic youngling underfoot.

            Srae bounced happily and shouted in a whisper, “Yay! Yes! PLEASE!” she darted into her room and grabbed a doll, then held the door for Iana to pick up Sime and carry him out. Dlami held the front door open for her and whispered, “Thank you SO much. The next time you need someone to watch Sime for you when your mother works and you have something to do, I’ll take care of it.” Iana nodded to her and led Sra across the street, where she placed Sime in his cradle—It had been built for her when she was a baby, and it was large and sturdy, but lightweight so it could be taken outside in pleasant weather.

            “So, Srae, what do you want to do? I have some—“ Iana was interrupted by Srae.

            “Can you teach me how to braid hair like you braid yours? Moma doesn’t know how to. You know, down your head?”

            Iana was confused, then she realized what Srae was talking about. “A mage’s braid! Yes, I will show you. I don’t know if you will be able to do it, as it is very complicated, but you can always try, right?” Iana carefully brushed first her hair, then Srae’s, and began braiding her own hair, showing Srae each step. Iana then unbraided her hair, and Srae gently held Iana’s hands as she once more braided her hair. “You think you have it?” Iana asked Srae.

            “Maybe... can I try it?” Srae asked, and received permission. She then began braiding Iana’s silky-smooth hair, but tangled it just a few seconds after she started. “Oops... maybe I don’t have it yet. Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

            “That’s ok, Srae. I’ll just brush it out. Do you want to try again?” Iana asked.

            “No. I’m bored. Can we play a game?” Srae asked eagerly. Iana sighed and grinned. The energy this one had!

            “Sure. What do you want to play?”

            “Skip rope! Moma got a new rope for me the other day. I’ll go and get it!” Srae took off across the street, tripping over the bottom stair of her house, falling, skinning her knee, and up again and in the house without a whimper and in barely two breaths. Three breaths later, she was back, with a brand-new green skipping rope with bright copper handles. “Got it!” Srae said excitedly, eyes gleaming with excitement. “Wanna see?” and she handed Iana the rope.

            Iana examined it with a half-jealous eye, but knew that skipping ropes weren’t really for girls as old as she. They were more for younger kids, and for people training to become warriors. “This is an excellent rope. It must have set Dlami back at least five coppers. If you take care of it, it’ll last you for a long time, Srae. I hope you have fun with it.” Iana handed the rope back to Srae. “What do you want to do? Have you learned any new rhymes?”

            Srae bounced excitedly. “Yep! I have!” She stood and began turning the rope, jumping carefully. Once she had her rhythm going, she began chanting in time to the rope’s turning. “Down in the valley where the green grass grows, sat little T'Kia, as sweet as a rose. Along came a boy, and kissed her on the cheek. How many kisses did she get? One, two, three…” she continued counting, until she got to fifty, and then she didn’t know any higher numbers.

            Iana listened in amusement to the rhyme. “That’s a good rhyme, Srae. Where did you learn it?”

            Srae continued jumping, face flushed slightly with the exertion. “Moma taught it to me. She said that it was one that her Momi had taught her when she was little, and her Nani had taught it to her. It’s an old one in our family.” Pride suffused her face at the thought that her family had been skipping rope and singing this same rhyme for such a long time. She stopped skipping and handed the rope to Iana. “You wanna try?”

            Iana looked at the rope, then glanced around. She was a bit old for this, but...Iana grabbed the rope and stepped into the middle of the street. “Watch this!” She began turning the rope at an extremely fast pace, saying a rhyme so fast the words could barely be distinguished. Then—and Srae’s eyes could barely believe what they were seeing—Iana began twisting the rope around her in fancy patterns while she jumped.

            “Wow!” Srae gasped with excitement. “Can you teach me how to do that? That’s so cool!!” Iana stopped with a gasp and a laugh.

            “It took me forever to learn how to do that,” Iana panted, slightly out of breath. “I don’t know if I could teach you. And even if I could, you’d have to be a bit older. You’re a bit small to learn all the tricks right now. Besides…isn’t Dlami calling you home?” Srae whirled around and sure enough, Dlami was waving at her, smiling.

            Srae took off across the street. “Bye-Iana-see-you-tomorrow-love-you!” she yelled in one quick rush as she dashed into the house after Dlami. “EEP!” she screeched as she was grabbed and tossed into the air by a pair of big, strong arms.

            Iana looked after her, then at the rope that she still held. She sighed, then grinned, and set it carefully under Sime’s cradle, so that Srae could get it tomorrow. It was beginning to get dark, after all, and it wasn’t likely that she would be back out.

            “So, how’s my best girl doing? Not misbehaving too badly, right? And not being caught when you do?” a deep bass voice asked her as he held her upside down.

            “Popa! Popa! Popa! You’re home!” Srae gabbled excitedly. She grabbed at his stomach and gave him an awkward hug. “I never saw you! How’d you get in? You sneaked!”

            Xate chuckled. “Yes, I did. I snuck in around the back so I could surprise you. Was it a good surprise?” he asked Srae fondly. He had hold of her ankles and raised her up so that she was about face to face with him—more accurately, face to chest.

            “Uh-huh! Are you home for a long time, Popa?” Srae asked him eagerly, tilting her head so that she could see his face, and grabbing onto his shoulders to steady herself.

            “Yes, for a very long time. Hopefully I will not have to leave for the rest of the year.” At this Srae let out a happy shout, and Xate smiled at her. “What have you been up to, youngling? Anything special?”

            At this, Srae suddenly remembered the drawing she had done for her popa, and began twisting and turning in an attempt to get loose to go and get it. “Yes, I have! Lemme go an’ get it!” Finally, she managed to twist loose—Xate having loosened his grip in order to help her in her endeavour—and flipped over, still clinging onto his shoulders in order to not crash to the floor. She then let loose and landed easily on the floor, much like the little monkey she was, and dashed into her room, returning in a few briefs breaths with the parchment clenched in her sweaty hand. “Look, Popa! I drawed your favouritest horsie!” She shoved the parchment into his hands, and he carefully uncrumpled it and held it in front of him.

            “It’s very nice, Srae! It looks just like a horse!” Xate told her diplomatically. Actually, it looked like one big ball with five sticks—presumably its tail and legs—and a smaller ball—its head—coming off of it, but why spoil her surprise? He went and put it in his book as a place marker. “Thank you very much, youngling. I will treasure it.” And he would, not for the artwork—admittedly poor—but for the love and thought that had gone into its creation.

            Srae jumped up and down, then stopped, eyed Xate, then looked at something behind him—then suddenly launched herself at his knees. “Hey!” he shouted in surprise, then realized there was a seat behind him. He “lost” his balance, and sat down in the seat. Srae smiled triumphantly and climbed into his lap, the new wooden chair groaning slightly under their weight.

            “Be CAREful! Tume didn’t strengthen these chairs as much as our old ones were!” Dlami exclaimed in haste, in an attempt to save her chairs. Alas, the warning came too late, for with one final loud groan, the brand-new ebony chair collapsed into a pile of splinters, Xate, and a very surprised-looking Srae. Dlami sighed at the ruin of her new chair, but couldn’t help but laugh at the looks on Xate and Srae’s faces. She sat down on the other chair in the living room and buried her face in her apron, shoulders shaking. Xate and Srae stood up and walked over to her. Xate patted her on her shoulder.

            “It’ll be ok, love. I’ll buy you another chair, and make sure it’s strengthened. We won’t ram around in the house anymore. We’re very sorry,” Xate told her consolingly.

            Srae sniffled and hugged Dlami’s legs. “Sorry Moma, I won’t ever do it again. Promise!”

            Dlami raised her head from her apron and they saw that she wasn’t crying, like they had believed, but rather laughing. “Th-the l-look on your f-faces!” Dlami gasped, out of breath from laughing. “I-It was pr-priceless!” Srae grinned and hugged Dlami tightly. “Well, don’t worry about buying a new chair, just...please don’t ram around in the house anymore?” she asked, having finally recovered her breath and getting her laughter under control.

            “Yes Moma!”

            “Yes dear!” Xate and Srae’s voices rang simultaneously. Dlami began to laugh again, but quickly caught herself.

            “Well, are you two ready for supper? I believe I might have some meat pies if anyone’s hungry,” Dlami told them both.

            “YUM! ME! I AM!” Srae yelled, then ran into the kitchen. Xate smiled at her exuberance, but was in the kitchen almost as quickly. No-one wanted to miss Dlami’s delicious food. She was a great cook. Xate gave Srae a plate with two small meat pies on it, sent her to the table with it, and when she returned, gave her a small glass of water. He then filled his plate with about four meat pastries and grabbed a tankard, put his plate on the table, then went and filled his tankard from the keg in the cellar. On his way back through the kitchen, he grabbed a few apples from the barrel.

            Dlami smiled to see her family so happy to eat. She quietly got a plate, put two pastries on it and went to the table. Once they were all seated, they said their thank you (“Mothers of us all, thank you for protecting us and feeding us. We praise You.”) and dug in.

            “Moma, this is great! Thank you!”

            “Yes, dear, this is good. I’ve missed your cooking a great deal during the time I’ve been away. Lord Temis’s cook is nowhere near as good as you are. But that’s not all I’ve missed, of course,” Xate said and grinned. He leaned over and kissed Dlami, who blushed very slightly.

            “I’ve missed you too dear. Oh, Srae, are you all done? Do you want more?” Dlami asked, noticing Srae had finished her pastries and an apple she had filched from Xate’s plate. Srae yawned and nodded.

            “I’m done. I don’t want more.” Srae got up and hugged Xate and Dlami. “Do I have to go to bed now? I’m not tired yet…,” Srae yawned again.

            “Yes, I can see that you’re not tired in the least. Why don’t you go on to bed, honey? You can spend all day tomorrow with Xate.” Srae yawned so widely her jaw popped, and nodded.

            “Ok, Moma. Love you. Love you Popa. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And she headed off to bed.

            Dlami and Xate looked after her, with identical fond looks on their faces. Xate sighed and said, “I have missed being home.” He leaned back in his chair and stretched.

            “Well, you’re home now, and for a while, at least.” Dlami got up and hugged him tightly. “I’ve missed you a lot while you were gone, you know,” Dlami whispered seductively into his ear. “Srae wasn’t the only one, but I’ve missed you for very different reasons.”

            “Really? Well, I guess I’ll have to do something about that then, won’t I, love?” Xate said and scooped up Dlami, regardless of the fact that she was nearly as tall as he was. He carried her to their room in the opposite end of the house, the both of them as happy as newly-pledged. Perhaps it was time for Srae to have a new sibling….

***

            Dlami woke in the dark of the night, about a half-hour before dawn, when it is still dark and quiet outside and in. She was uneasy, her old Hiresword instincts screaming that something was wrong. Yet all was quiet. She felt Xate wake beside her, although no-one else would have noticed anything, as his breathing remained in the sleeping pattern. Suddenly, faintly, so faint she might have thought she was imagining it, save for the tensing of Xate’s muscles beside her, came a distant, far-off scream, abruptly cut short—not a scream of a person awakening from a nightmare, but of a person awakening into one.

            She rolled off of the bed, quickly, and began getting dressed, knowing Xate was doing the same beside her. “Xate? What—or who—is it?” she queried, knowing that his bond with the village as co-mayor would inform him of what was happening in the village.

            “The Red Wolves, Dlami.” Xate lit the small candle on their bedside table and turned toward her, his eyes catching the small flame and glowing unnaturally. “It’s the Wolves.”

            She swallowed, and belted on her sword and dagger, noticing Xate was doing the same. “Should I…should we awaken Srae?” leaving unspoken the suggestion, ‘Or should we just… go ahead and end her life now, painlessly?’

            “Awaken her. Tell her to hide. We will pray. And fight, fight for our lives—and hers.” Xate caught her in his arms and hugged her fiercely as she came around the end of the bed. This would likely be the final night of their lives.

            The Red Wolves were a group of bandits, the most feared and hated on all of Ai. They were murderous and bloodthirsty, killed for the sick pleasure of it, and pillaged and raped towns all over Ai. All the rulers on Ai would pay rich rewards for the Wolves dead—not alive—yet no-one can claim the reward. Most of the Red Wolves are ex-Hireswords and other mercenaries, exiled from the guild and their homes for the horrific crimes they committed.

            For, despite the fact that there was constant strife on Ai, it was carefully regulated. The towns were not allowed to be burned or pillaged, bystanders were not to be killed. No-one, under any circumstances, was to be raped or tortured. Instead of burning the town, incoming troops slapped a seal on a building and it was as if the building was burned—save that the people that lived there and had nothing to do with the war could still use it. But no warriors could. There were many other laws and rules, set in place when, after too many times of being affected the most over petty squabbles of land ownership, the poor farming class revolted against everyone and utterly refused to grow food for anyone except their families. And did not share or sell. At all. They did not work mills, they did not run shops, nothing. Everyone on Ai quickly learned who the real rulers of the continent were, and set these laws in place, much to everyone’s happiness—except for those few sick people that enjoyed hurting others just for the pleasure of hurting them.

            They are given one chance to redeem themselves—then they have their guild membership taken away, are branded to mark them as outcast, and are hated throughout Ai. Most wind up dead or as members of the Red Wolves.

            Dlami shuddered again and followed Xate to Srae’s room, and looked at her child’s small, delicate features by the weak light of the water candle that stayed lit to “scare away monsters”. Nothing would scare away the monsters that were coming now.