-----11-----Legalassa-----

I stepped out of the carriage, somewhat glad to escape the gossiping ladies.

I felt eyes on me, staring, gazing. I spun around…

I had a vision then. The youth with muddy brown eyes, he was staring at me, but the moment he saw me notice him he looked away. His dark hair reflected the light of the setting sun in shades of dark blue. Somehow my vision seemed so real…

It was real because it wasn't a vision. I thought it was a vision, but is wasn't. I gaped at him, the likeness was eerie.

I peered into his eyes, into their muddy depths. In them I saw the sun setting that was setting behind me. I saw my own eyes reflected in them. I saw him, his soul, tied - like mine, chained - like mine, struggling - like mine.

Had my chest not been locked, my heart would have pounded out. I wanted to set it and it's feelings free. I wanted to be there beside him. I wanted this moment to last forever.

For once in my life, I felt a feeling that was so close to freedom, it just might have been.

-----12-----Dasa-----

"Dasa, I've talked with Lord Riwan, you're joining the guards untill we reach the castle," said Aswin.

"Yes, and if you prove as useful as Aswin claims, I'll place you intot he special unit which guards the trade routes," said Lord Riwan, sounding as though he was doubting Dasa's ability.

Dasa's mind drifted off again, to the face, her face. For one moment he rejoiced in her memory.

"How's your lady?" asked Aswin, changing the subject.

"She's fine."

"The wedding, who's attending?"

"No one," answered the Sheriff, slightly amused.

"No one, sire? Why?" Aswin sounded surprised.

"It's a wedding, Aswin, not a celebration," said the Lord. "And most of my family and friend are dead anyway. I assassinated a good quarter of them, I believe you helped yourself, Aswin. Of course, I did start off with an invitation list, but I started crossing people off. In the end I crossed so many out that I didn't have anyone left..."

That was all Dasa caught of the conversation. He had forgotten the lady's identity. She would be Lord Riwan's in less than a week. He tried to convince himself that the eyes he saw were full of scorn, but they were to vivid and loving. He tried to tell himself her personality was only built on a few visions, she may be a spoilt brat, but he had seen her spirit and if wasn't like that.

The cost of a glance. His eyed had strayed upon the Lord Riwan's fiance. He was infatuated. Foolish passions. The stupid sort of thing all growing boys have to go through. His master had often said that.

That was all. Nothing more.

This is reality, not the ballads the minstrel sings oh-so-prettily out of tune. In reality, boys did that sort of thing every day, that sort of stupid, heartbreaking, painful, foolish... thing.

Dasa tried his best to bury further thoughts on the subject, but they continued to rise from their graves to haunt him, ghostly in their cold touch, promising the warmer ones of love. Somewhere inside him, he knew that until the day he died, he will always see those eyes stare at him from the fringes of his memory.

-----13-----Legalassa-----

"Dasa," I repeated under my breath, he was called Dasa. I knew his name.

Only then did I realise that was all I knew about him that wasn't my imagination.

I tried to look for Dasa later that day and night, but he was gone. There was little I could see from the window of the wagon and a lady of stature was only allowed to venture so far from her attendants.

The little voice inside me stirred. Told you it was just a dream, said the voice, spitefully. Told you.

"Just a dream," I echoed. "It really did seem so real."

By then, the magic of the meeting had seemingly faded and reality was taking over. The iciness of the water in the basin, the whispers of the voices just outside my door...

What if Dasa really existed, what difference would it make? sniggered the voice.

The dream had been exquisite, so real. The tantalising glimse of freedom, had only been that, a glimse. Nothing more. It was all just a dream, and as we drew closer and closer to the Lord Riwan's keep, reality became harsher. I had to wake. There was nothing I could do to change that.

Part of me wanted to dream on, pretend this Dasa, this knight of dreams, would really come and save me. He would come flaming sword in hand, a white stallion and radiating rugged masculine beauty. And I would smile at the thought, as that 'knight' was so different from the spirit I saw in the eyes of the muddy-eyed youth of what seemed like an eternity ago.

Yet knew no other way of imagining him. I had lived a life cloistered away in my private gardens and chambers. My father hadn't been cruel in providing me everything imaginable, everything material, that is.

Dream had to meet reality, and now, I was waking. The dream had only made these pretences I have to live, harsher.

-----14-----Dasa-----

The uniform was scratchy. It was also blood-stained in various areas and he didn't care to think of the plight of the previous owners. It felt odd, as did his surroundings. Camping outdoors wasn't as wonderful an adventure as one would believe it to be. Dasa longed to be back in a forge again. It may be dark, hot and uncomfortable, but it was, in many ways, home. After all, Dasa was a blacksmith by trade, and however good he was at his little hobby of swordfighting, it was still a hobby.

His mind wasn't very used to the idea of being a guard to the Lord Riwan of Haoidien. He in four, no, three days, he'll be guarding Haoidien, a city he barely knew. What he did know he could count with the fingers on one hand, which was just as well, since Dasa wasn't all that good with numbers. Unless it dealt with money, of course, everyone was good with money.

One, it was a port city. Two, it was very rich, very big and very powerful. Three, it was the capital of a chunk of land called "Rainoi." Four, it was the heart of all the lands since it had a monopoly of all overseas trade routes. Five...

What was five?

He was sure there was something else...

Yes, Five. Haoidien was harassed by the Dread Pirate of the Eighth Sea. Made a regular pest of himself, says Sir Aswin. He terrorised the seas, randomly raiding boats, almost of the sake of doing so. Occasionally, he raided them, laid claim on everything, and left all the goods on board. Rumour has it that he was also very amused by the whole idea of the "Eighth Sea," as it meant land, not water. This dreaded pirate ruled on land as well as on sea. He conducted strategic raids in the city. His vessel sails as well on the streets and alleyways as it did on the waves, though that wasn't his true demesne.

Lord Riwan was especially short on guards ever since this Dread Pirate surfaced. Not that the Pirate had to dirty his hands killing many. Most of the guards had fled the moment the Pirate appeared and other moments they had thrown themselves off their ships from fear and... "That is why you can't trust raw recruits. We need professionals!" was what Lord Riwan had said.

That was, in theory, where Dasa came in. Sir Aswin had claimed him to be a "professional." He wasn't entirely sure he would be able to live up to Lord Riwan's expectations of him, after Sir Aswin's anecdote of how he had encountered Dasa. Natuarally, the anecdote had been severly edited and during the telling Dasa had suffered many dangerous glares form Sir Aswin, warning Dasa not to tell the truth of it.

Sir Aswin had a brilliant imagination when drunk and he had painted such a picture of Dasa that even Dasa failed to recognise himself. One realled didn't expect the hero who had single-handedly kill half-a-dozen giants with one hand tied behind his back and a blunted sword, be a gangly messy-haired boy, suffering from an almost permanent slouch from heavy smith work.

Dasa rolled over to one side and tried again to sleep. The weight of his new responsibilities and the scrutiny of those intense green eyes kept sleep at bay.

-----15------Legalassa-----

I awoke in my makeshift bed, its emptiness reminding me that soon I would have to share its warmth with another man. The Lord Riwan, ruler of the port city of Haoidien. I daren't climb out of my bed, trying to prolong my moment of solitude. These would be my last nights in a bed alone.

I got up, eventually. My new handmaid, Iradel, a present from Lord Riwan, attended to me. I tried not to hate her for her master, but it was difficult. She chattered cheerfully and senselessly, her speeches spiced with little snippets of gossip and amusing anecdoes. Her voice was interesting, vivid, with a strange accent.

It was her eyes that made me hate her, or at least made me suspicious. They darted about the room, never ceasing, constantly searching. Whenever I spoke, she looked expectantly at me, as though I was to say something else or say more.

I insisted on dressing my own hair and wearing it in braids as I always have. They were a little messy, in my haste. I could tell by the reflection in the polished silver mirror, but I didn't mind. As wife of Lord Riwan, I wouldn't be allowed to wear my hair in braids, it was customary that I should dress it curled around my ears or in a knot at my neck. Never loose, it was another sign of his control over me.

I dismissed Iradel as soon as possible. I didn't want her hovering behind me, fussing over my appearance. I had a lifetime in front of me, a great portion of which will be spent with someone dressing my hair and fussing over clothes. I was half afraid I'll become like the other court ladies.

Another thing I insisted on was eating breakfast alone, but it wasn't possible. I had to share a room with the other ladies of the court. It felt somewhat frightening to think I shared the same blood as them, not more than three or four generations back. Much of the nobility in Rainoi was inter-related. She's my cousin so many times removed and she's her cousin that many times removed... it was all very confusing. They could probably tell me, since most were trained by their families to memorise their family trees. It was considered good breeding. I, luckily wasn't subject to such an education.

I paid little attention to their chaffering, choosing instead to concentrate on my meal. Their conversation was after all, repetative and consisted mainly of giggling and petty remarks. I couldn't claim I enjoyed their company, but I was most grateful for it when Lord Riwan emerged from between the curtains of the tent.

"Good morning, ladies," he greeted. "Travel agrees with you. You look most radient, m'lady." I seemed to be the only one to be able to tell he didn't mean it. The mindless court ladies cooed in jealousy and smiled coyly at Lord Riwan.

I simply mouthed thanks and tried to look natural.

"Well, m'lady, our wedding has been altered..." I dared not hope for the better. "It will no longer be a small celebration. My mother has... resurfaced and is taking charge."

His face paled at the mention of his mother.

"When will I meet her ladyship?" Anyone Lord Riwan was afraid of has to be worth knowing.

"You won't be making acquaintances until... later."

I wondered why he was so awkward at his mother's mention. It wasn't just fear. There was a hXn¸0þ