§ Chapter One §

The sun had been hidden by the storm clouds for many days it had not stopped

raining since she left Caive. It had been three days since she left Caive, and she knew that she must return home as quickly as possible. The messenger seemed so desperate that she left immediately after receiving King Hyarmen’s message.

As she reached the River Tarim, the mud became slick, and her horse, Sairia, began to slide towards the rushing river. Sairia reared, and threw Tarin to the ground. Tarin slid across the wet ground, and crashed into a nearby tree. Tarin immediately felt a sharp searing pain shoot through her left arm, and she cringed at the pain. Tarin slowly stood and reached for Sairia’s reigns. Sairia immediately calmed down, and took a few steps back from the river. Sairia nuzzled against Tarin’s neck, and Tarin stroked her wet, matted coat.

“It’s alright, Sairia,” Tarin whispered in the horse’s ear. “We are almost home, and then you can rest, I promise.”

Sairia whinnied in agreement, and Tarin quickly climbed back into her saddle, and, cradling her left arm, ushered Sairia onwards. Sairia cautiously crossed the nearby bridge, looking ominously at the water rushing beneath her. Once on the other side, Tarin urged Sairia into a run, allowing the frigid, icy water to rush past her. Nim quickly came into view on the horizon, and Tarin encouraged Sairia to hurry.

Many hours later, Tarin could clearly see the gates of Nim ahead of her. The rain had not let up, and the cold of the water had chilled her to the bone. Sairia had slowed to a trot, and kept her head near the ground. Tarin humoured herself by thinking about their appearance. Tarin hoped to get a warm bath when she returned.

The gatekeepers saw Tarin and Sairia approaching the city walls, and called out to her as she stepped within hearing distance.

“What is your business young traveller?” One called out to her. “It is nearing dusk, and the gates have been closed for the evening. You will have to return in the morning.”

Tarin did not realize how late it really was, and was startled by this news. She searched her pockets briefly, and produced the royal crest. It was a small medallion, engraved with a white horse running across a field of green. She held it above her head for the guards to see, and the immediately called for the gates to be opened.

“We are sorry your highness, we had no news of your arrival,” the guard called down to her.

“It is forgiven,” she replied at the top of her lungs. Her voice was coarse, and sounded meek to her. The rain and the ride had taken a toll on her, and she was glad to be home.

The gates slowly opened, and Tarin and Sairia slowly walked underneath the large stone wall, and past the huge wooden doors. Sairia walked beneath the awnings lining the city streets, hoping to stop the rain from finding her cold, wet body. After walking for a few minutes, and passing many side streets, Tarin and Sairia were greeted by a group of stable boys from the castle, eager to take Sairia to the stables.

“Please, keep her warm, and give her lots of straw for her bed,” Tarin instructed as she dismounted.

The nearest stable boy nodded, and quickly rushed off, holding onto Sairia’s reigns. Moments later, two handmaidens came rushing towards her.

“My lady,” the first one to arrive said, bowing her head as she spoke. “We are glad you are here. Quickly, we will have a bath drawn for you, and we will prepare some dry clothing.”

“Thank you Okela,” Tarin said, as the young handmaiden followed her towards the castle. The older women followed behind, and waited for orders.

Okela had been Tarin’s handmaid since Tarin was a teenager. Okela was only a few years older than Tarin, and they became close friends. The other handmaidens knew that when Tarin was home, they were to follow Okela’s orders. It was not normal for the youngest handmaiden to be in charge, but Okela had helped Tarin through her mother’s death, and knew Tarin better than anyone in all of Nim.

Minutes later, they reached the castle, and rushed inside. When Tarin opened the doors, the majority of the household staff greeted her. They all bowed in turn as she walked past them, and said a warm welcome. She greeted them, calling many of them by name. Then Tarin turned towards the western wing of the castle, and strode up the staircase. She opened the first door on her right, and walked into the room she remembered as hers.

There were several handmaidens rushing around inside, all of which stopped and said a warm welcome to her as she walked in. A washing tub had been placed in the center of the room, and a few of the women poured warm water into the deep basin. A curtain was pulled closed around it, and the handmaidens rushed out of the room, placing a brilliant blue silk gown on the bed as they left.

Tarin stood in the center of the room, staring blankly at the gown lying on the bed, and debating what to do after she had finished bathing. The rain had caused her riding gear to become matted to her body, and it took her the last of her waning effort to remove her boots, riding pants, cloak and riding jacket.

Tarin slowly walked towards the curtain and brushed it aside. Tarin approached the bathing tub, and slowly slipped her foot into the warm water. She sunk down until her body was completely covered by the water, as the warm water washed over her left shoulder she remembered the injury she had sustained on the road. She made a note to herself to see the medic later that night, after she had seen her father. She rested her head on the back of the tub and closed her bright blue eyes.

Her long brown hair was still pulled back in a braid, and she reached to untie the leather strap holding it in place. Tarin could feel the mud caked in her hair, and she quickly submerged her head in the warm water.