Prologue –

As rain poured from the sky, a woman’s scream mingled with the earth-shaking rolls of thunder. Through the empty streets ran a young girl, her feet hitting the cobblestones harder and harder as ragged breaths tore from her lungs. Looming in the distance was a great stone castle, from whose majestic towers the red flag of Kaudraen waved. Below the towers, guarding the castle stood the King’s Warriors, their bold uniforms bearing the same color and pattern as the flags.

Squinting through the rain from their posts, the two guards of the front-most gates watched the girl approach. The child, like many born of the streets, was clothed in worn and tattered breeches, along with a rough cotton tunic. As she drew closer, the guards were surprised to see that she was a girl-child, for not many survived on the streets. In different circumstances, she might have been beautiful, with fairy-like features and wide, innocent eyes. Her pale blonde hair had a rough shape, cut ragged and close to her head.

She reached the gate out of breath, stumbling as she approached. Cedric, the tall guard, reached down and caught her by the arm. “Girl.” His voice was gentle, fatherly. “Girl. What is your business here?” She staggered again and Cedric took her carefully by the shoulders, kneeling to look into her eyes. “Girl?”

Her eyes were full of tears that she did not yet cry. “It- it’s a woman, sir. A woman’s been stabbed. Blood everywhere sir! ‘Tis a terrible sight! I fear- I fear…” Cedric watched her chin wobble and nodded, rising to his feet.

“Mind the post by yourself for a bit, can you?” His stoic partner gave a gruff nod. “Come then girl.” Without another word, the girl took the hand Cedric offered her and hurried alongside him. As he led her, he tried to gain some information. “So. Erm…girl. What be you called?”

Her response was slow, cautious. “They call me – well, I be Maye.” Seeming to anticipate his next question, she added, “I’ll be nine years, come winter.” Cedric frowned at this.

“Well…erm…Maye, be it not winter already? What with the cold setting in…”

The girl’s eyes widened with surprised, then she laughed, a harsh, humorless bark, as though from someone who had seen too much evil in the world, and was hiding in a skin tough as leather. It was surprising coming from a child so young. She drew in a breath before answering him, her eyes quickly growing solemn once more. “I s’pose tis, for you city dwellers…” She shook her head contemptuously before continuing in a serious tone. “But out on the streets, this be fine weather, still good for going about your business. No one’ll freeze in this weather, eh? No, you give it a few months, then it’ll be cold. Then it’ll be winter.”

Before Cedric had time to process this, they had arrived at the palace stables. He strode quickly and surely to a stall where a majestic dappled grey steed stood. Cedric pushed open the gate and saddled the mount with a speed and efficiency that can come only from years of practice. Then, before she could protest, he lifted Maye into the saddle, and swung himself up behind her. A nudge of his heels and they were off, galloping through the rain-spattered streets.

The girl gave directions quietly until, when they were nearly half way across the city, she stiffened, her body jerking. She turned around to face Cedric. “Stop!”

Cedric was inwardly impressed that the girl had run so far, and failed to notice the girl squirming. Suddenly, she sprang from the horse, landed nimbly on her feet and ran a short distance away, into the shadows. Cedric followed suit, swinging down from the saddle, quickly tying the reins to a nearby fencepost, and following into the darkness.

Cedric had served many years as a palace guard, yet he was still taken aback by the sight of the woman lying helplessly in a spreading pool of her own blood. Once the moment of shock passed, Cedric rushed to her, kneeling at her side. The girl, Maye, was by the woman’s head, arms wrapped around legs, rocking feebly back and forth, singing softly to herself in a language that Cedric recognized as Kardain, the dialect of old.

The woman’s life was slipping away quickly. Cedric took her hand in his. “Woman. Woman, what is your name?”

“Sari. My- My name is Sari.” Her reply came in a voice that was cracked from pain and fatigue. “And you? Who be you?”

The guard gently eased himself closer to her. “I be Cedric, ma’am. I be Cedric.” Then, with great care, Cedric drew upon the stores of magic deep within him, the main reason he had decided to become a guard. He gingerly placed his hand on her forehead, and with what little power he possessed, he whispered, “Be calm, Sari. Sleep.”

He felt the magic leave him, and under his touch, her pain was eased. She slowly drifted into sleep, then slipped from the world altogether. Cedric remained kneeling by her side, her now cold hand still in his, as a wounded cry rose from Maye, who he had previously forgotten. Cedric hurried around the body to her, as she began to rock harder and harder, all the while moaning pitifully.

“Girl. Maye.” At the sound of her name, the girl looked up. Her eyes were now even wider than they had been, the tears still pooling viciously at the corners. “Maye. This woman, Sari. Of what relation be she to you?”

Only at that did the tears fall. Whimpering dejectedly, she whispered agonizingly into the night, “My ma. She be my ma.” Then she withdrew into herself, still whimpering, tears streaming down her face. She rocked gently now, her thumb in her mouth as she cried. “My ma. My ma. Oh, why, why my ma?” She whimpered to herself forlornly.

Her cries struck a chord in Cedric’s heart. As tenderly as he could, he lifted the girl into his arms, cradling her close to him as they began the ride back to the castle. Her tears and his fell onto the stallion’s mane, intermingling and becoming indistinguishable from the rain.