Kelnianné walked. The walking, in and of itself wasn't hard, but she was exhausted from the argument with her father, the bracing her mind against her anger in a way that had become all too familiar of late, and it had been just dark when she'd left, after a full day of hard labor on the farm. Her legs moved stiffly and clumsily under her, causing her to trip every now and then. But she had a mission… She had to continue on, and she was damn well going to. If she didn't make it to Beller in time then she didn't know if she could catch up.

In the dark, even though the trail was well worn, and easy to follow, Kelnianné was catching herself off of it every few moments, the dark setting in firmly for midnight. Nevertheless, the girl had to continue. If she didn't manage to join the company recruiting here, then she'd have to go somewhere else. She was old enough now, and she was not going to go back to her father after the display she'd made. She may as well just volenteer for a sound lashing with a real whip, as soon as go home so soon. She was certainly not going to marry Derbin, the farmer her father had picked for her.

Stumbling in the darkness, Kelnianné fought to stay awake against her hunger and fatigue. The three coppers in her pocket jingled. Just enough for a meal, she thought to reassure herself. Even if she didn't make it in time, she could eat, rest and continue. Her stomach grumbled appreciatively at the thought of food and rest, even though they weren't offered yet.

It seemed as if she was going to need to rest before she could travel on, the road seeming longer than it had before, but light was just coming through the cover of the trees, and the well-worn dirt ground was rapidly becoming visible. Had it really been so long? Was dawn already here? She quickened her pace, fighting even more against weariness than before, but stopped suddenly.

The smell of wood smoke, and alcohol told her that she was in the town of Beller, or at least near to it. She took three more steps and found the trees around her all cleared, with the quaint little village of her home sprawled inside. She smiled, suddenly full of energy again, the travel not seeming nearly as arduous now that she was here. She dashed for the middle of town, which served poorly, but served, as a square.

Nothing. There was a spot of ground that was smoother than most, it seemed to have been cleared for tents, but the company that was here had left. If her cousin had been right, then the company would be moving the Sprigsan next, the neighboring town, much larger than Beller. Kelnianné sighed, looking hopefully at the baker's house. No, dawn was just coming, and there was no bread in the oven yet. She didn't know if she could wait until noon then travel to Sprigsan and still catch them. She sighed again. Drawing a drink from the village well, she felt refreshed enough to continue away from the little wooden cottages with thatch roofs.

The border stone at the edge of Beller told her that she was leaving. It also told her that she was going farther from home than she'd ever been. She took a deep breath crossing the threshold, and reminded herself again that this was what she came for. She came for the new things in the world that she would never know staying at home. She came for the glory that her cousin had found.

She smiled at the memories as she walked on. Her cousin, Derith, had left home when Kelnianné had been but fourteen winters of age, and he'd come the summer after next with treasure and tales. When he'd left, Kelnianné had dreamt for the next year about magical swords, battling evil, a tall loyal steed… But when he'd returned it suddenly had seemed real. He'd fought, sword in hand, against other men, with swords in their hands. He'd become strong, brave, and gotten glory and riches. He was living her dream, and she wanted to too.

So Derith had told her that when she was eighteen, and if she got tall enough – which he had no doubt she'd do so – then she should join a mercenary company to get the experience that she needed, then she could move on to a guard company, or even a knighthood, if she was good enough. At that, Kelnianné had envisioned herself in armor, with a warhorse underneath her, and a sword at her side. She'd seen the crescent of a lord on her chest, and shield… She'd seen a knight, but it was her face there. It was then that she knew, she was absolutely sure that she wanted to be a warrior. She'd been planning to leave since then, and now it had been two years of waiting, but she was finally here. She'd waited until the end of the season so that her father couldn't come through and see her, then take her back.

The day wore on, slowly becoming warm from the chill of last night, then quickly becoming hot when it reached noon. Kelnianné almost didn't realize that she'd stumbled into Sprigsan until she nearly ran into a building. The forest around her didn't stop when the town began. The little huts around her were covered in ivy and morning glories, colored like the bark of the trees. It was almost like she hadn't left for forest as all, and had somehow wandered into a pixiehome. Her heart had swelled with joy and hope, as well as fear. If they were gone from here too, then she couldn't imagine what she would have to do. She didn't know how to get any farther than here, and only knew this far because Derith had told her.

She looked around the town. It was large – or, larger than Beller. It had people coming in and out of doorways. The in had a stables, and three rather large horses here there, happily eating grain. She couldn't see the clear boundaries of the town because there weren't any, but the place was larger than she was used to. Beller had, perhaps, three dozed buildings, some serving as houses for more than three families, but it was still a small enough town to be able to servey from one spot. Sprigsan took five spots, with the baker's house as the source of the sweet smell of pastry, and the rich smell of bread.

She wandered the town a few moments more before she saw a glint above her head, and though a tree. She looked past the tree to see yellow and blue banners, those of Duke Firsson, as Derith had said, and held by spears was an awning in the same colors.

She looked around, her heart racing with delight, and yet more relief. She could see that they were packing up, and she was thrilled to find herself in time to join. She dashed there, forgetting to look at all proper. She entered the shade of the awning, remembering herself and slowing down.

At the front there were two men at arms, gleaming helmets and spears and oiled leather armor. They looked strong, and capable, just as Derith had when he'd returned home. Inside was a man, equally formidable, if not more so, even though his hair and face were touched by age. He looked up at her.

"Yes? This is Duke Firsson's company, what can I help you with?" he asked from behind his desk. Kelnianné was so happy she could hardly speak, but with practiced cadence, she did.

"Sir, I wish to join Duke Firsson's company," she said, hoping that was how to go about doing it. The man raised an eyebrow, looking her over. She could practically see him thinking her too scrawny, to girly to want to join, and pushed in by some kind of dare, but she held herself as proudly as she thought reasonable.

"Very well," said the man eventually. "You must be at least eighteen winters of age, hearty and healthy enough, tall enough – no problem there – and strong enough," said the man. Kelnianné smiled so widely she feared the top of her head would detach.

"Sir, I was eighteen this midsummer, I'm never sick and I've been wrestling with my older brothers for as long as I've been able. I can carry two bushels of cranberries half a field," she said, wondering vaguely if this was good enough. She knew that before Derith had joined and companies she could out-wrestle him, but was that sufficient?

"Very well, um--?" he began.

"Kelnianné," she supplied to his pause. He frowned.

"Anything slightly shorter we can call you?" he asked. She'd been thinking about that herself. She never much cared for her father's 'Kelni', nor did she want to hear it again. She hadn't really liked Nianné, which her grandmother for whom she'd been named had been called often. She'd settled on something shorter, and not too feminine.

"Kel will be fin, Sir," she said. The man before her smiled, and nodded.

"Good, and I'm Sergeant Bossik, but you will mostly call me Sergeant, I'm sure," he said, more warmly than anything else he'd said before. "Tell me, Kel," he began. She felt strange with the new name, but didn't show it. She still liked it more than 'Kelni'. "Have you ever arm wrestled?" he asked her.

"Once or twice when my father and I came to Beller from our farm. We were in the inn, and it was crowded. I won a prize," she added, unable to stop herself. Sergeant Bossik laughed.

"I see. Well, put your arm on the desk, and let's have a go, shall we? To test your strength," he said. Kelnianné smiled, and did so. They clasped right arms, and she put all the force she could muster in, but there was little movement. Eventually he called a halt to that, and they clasped left arms, where she found herself quite outmatched. He smiled, and seemed to think that was good enough.

"How far a walk have to taken before? We do a lot of marching, and we want to be sure you'll keep up," he said.

"Well," she began. "I did a daily run to Beller from my father's farm, which was about a five hour walk in good weather and light," she said. "And just today I walked from home to here. Well, I started last night," she said. She halted, rather than trying to list anything more, since she saw the look of shock on his face.

"You live outside of Beller, and you walked through Beller, from your home, all the way here with no breaks?" asked Bossik. Kelnianné nodded, wondering if that was bad for some reason. He shook his head in disbelief. "My, my, you were all alone?" he asked to clarify.

"Yes. I had to catch you, so I had to keep moving," she offered. Bossik smiled at her.

"Did you eat anything since last night's dinner?" he asked. She shook her head.

"It was just before dawn in Beller, and I was worried I would miss you if I'd stopped."

"And what if you had missed us?" asked Bossik. Kelnianné smiled.

"I've a few coppers, enough for a meal. I would've eaten, then gone to the next town you were to stay in," she said. "Not that I knew which it was yet, but I'd have figured out somehow."

Bossik laughed. "I'm sure you would have. Was it a quick decision to join the company?" he asked, still amused.

"Oh, no," said Kelnianné quickly. "I've been wanting to since I was small, and when Derith, my cousin, came home from his soldering life one midwinter, I knew it's what I wanted, so I asked him how to go about it, and he said the best way was to join a mercenary company like Duke Firsson's. You get the training and experience, then later maybe I could learn to be a free sword, if that's what I want," said Kelnianné. Bossik smiled.

"Well, it's a good thing you had him for a cousin," he said simply. "To join this company you must swear and oath to follow your Duke, and you must also swear to commit to service two years after you initial training, which takes roughly six to eight months," said Bossik.

"Oh, yes, sir, I'll swear to it," she said in return.

"All right, let's get you in the books so I can get some food into you," he said. At that, Kelnianné heard a ferocious growl from her stomach, and Bossik appeared to be holding back a chuckle.

"Steerge!" he called to one of the men at arms, who turned to look in the small camp.

"Yes, sir?" asked Steerge.

"Get me some witnesses, we've got another one just before the deadline," laughed Bossik. Steerge laughed as well.

"Yes, sir," he said, before wandering off. Bossik must have seen her expression of confusion, because he then explained.

"The witnesses are to show that we didn't force you into anything. They sign on the paper so that it's clear you joined of your own will," he said. "By the way, how do your parents feel about all this?" asked Bossik seriously. Kelnianné had hoped she wouldn't be asked that particular question, but there was no dodging it now.

"Actually," she stammered, her face flushing. "I left last night… Because I was waiting until the end of your recruiting season so they couldn't track me. They don't know this is where I am, but if they thought it through they could probably tell," she said. Bossik looked her up and down again, as if reading.

"They wanted you to wed someone, didn't they?" he asked. Kelnianné was shocked at the insight, and nodded mutely. "And you wanted someone else?" he asked. At this, the shock all dropt away.

"Oh no, sir. I don't want to wed anyone. I want to be a warrior," she told him certainly. Bossik smiled.

"Well, it's not something that we pry into, much at all. The Duke has little against runaways so long as they're hardworking like the rest. He always says, 'better an orphan than someone with a dead relative every week'," said Bossik, and despite the rather grim words, he said it so cheerfully Kelnianné almost found herself laughing. "The Duke himself knows the difficulties of getting parental consent, so don't worry," assure Bossik, as if she were about to back out.

A while later a man who appeared to be a stable hand, and a woman very clearly a baker by all the flour in her hands were ushered in, and watched Kelnianné sign her mark. They both did the same afterwards. It seemed quite impersonal, really. Bossik grinned widely, and stood proudly.

"Welcome to Duke Firsson's service!" he said. "Now get over to that inn and feed yourself." With a strong feeling of elation, Kelnianné did so.

She was directed to the building, and to a table in the corner. Sandwiches were served to her, and she ate hungrily, downing two of them before slowing and looking around.

There were only four recruits here that were taller than she, or even as tall, and only one of them female. One was a scrawny boy, looked to be hardly old enough, and had blonde hair pulled back into a pony tail. Another was a burly black haired man, who looked – even by just standing – like he was a man of proud parentage. She could already tell she wasn't going to like him. The third man was just her height, perhaps a little shorter, now that she looked closer, and had a large scar across his red face. She was sure he was a drunkard by the way he moved, and his flushed appearance.

The woman was chatting with another woman when Kelnianné had come in, and the hadn't appeared to notice her. The taller one, a long haired, dark eyed, formidable woman with broad shoulders and tough arms, seemed entirely at ease with the world around her. The other was much shorter than Kelnianné. Standing about a hand less high than herself, the woman was sweet faced, and looked kindly. No mistake, she herself looked formidable and strong, but she also looked gentle, and more feminine than the strength-beast in front of her. They spoke with their eyes deeply staring into the others'.

Bossik entered the room, which stirred a little in his presence, but he waved them down easily, and they ignored him soon afterwards. He talked with a few of the people standing on his way to Kelnianné, but not any of them for long.

"Enjoying your meal, Kel? You certainly seemed hungry enough," he said, eyeing her lack of food quickly. Kelnianné smiled, and nodded, her mouth still too full of food to talk. Bossik smiled at her again.

"Well, good. We were planning on leaving this evening, since the recruiting had been slow, but since you've had no sleep for a while we can re-extend our stay here before we march again," he said. "In the mean time, I'll tell you who those in your file are. Over there, the tall woman with the dark hair and eyes is Kessysa, a bit prickly, but honest enough, from what I've seen of her. Over there with the scar on his face is Gellern, the two lads chatting with each other who both have stains on their shirts are Cavis and Colnya, and finally, that," said Bossik, motioning to the only other woman in the room, who had neatly kept brown hair, fair skin and a strong build, but for lack of height. Kelnianné was sure that she would have just barely met the height requirements. "That's Nahen, your file leader. She's been here the longest of any of you, joined before the season actually started back in Firner – one of the Duke's settlements – about half a year ago, so she's more experienced, though by nothing of consequence. If you need anything else, let her know, or let me know, all right, Kel?" finished Bossik. Kelnianné nodded emphatically, unable to hold her excitement in any longer now that she had fuel for such. Bossik let out another chuckle, and waved goodbye. Once he had left the inn it seemed almost instantly that someone came up to her. It was the scrawny blonde boy.

"Hello, you're the newest recruit, then?" he asked. Kelnianné was shocked at how deep his voice was, and how much older he looked closer up. She nodded. He smiled at her, holding his hand out.

"I'm Colnya, your file second," he said when she took his hand to shake over the table.

"Kel," she replied, her voice catching up with her finally. "You're my file second?" she asked. Colnya nodded brightly. "What's that?" she asked hesitantly. He ginned at her.

"Oh, I didn't know either. Don't feel bad asking about things. The file leader is someone who is on the far right of a file – a line in the march," he explained. "And a file second is the next one over. You're the sixth," he told her. "Though as for where our file is marching, the formation has been switching so that we can all know what the front is like. I expect that'll continue," he said.

In the time that wore on, Kelnianné had grown tired again, going for the barn that the cohort was staying in, and falling quickly into a sound sleep.

She woke to shout from Steerge, and instructions to use the latrine and prepare to march in a quarter glass.

That morning it was already becoming clear to her that the soldering life was different than she expected. She wasn't charging into any wars, or ever sparing against someone from her own company. Instead she was told to pack the mules – the mules! She hadn't expected it, but she complied all the same, theorizing that it was just until they needed her to fight in the contract.

When they marched finally, an hour after preparations began, Kelnianné was already learning hew things. How to keep pace with the person beside her – who was Kessysa – and how to not crowd those in front of, or behind her. The files switched position every time there was a break. Kelnianné enjoyed when she could hear the stomping feel in time with her own but she was ahead of the other recruits, only the Sergeant in front of her. When she was ahead she let her mind roam to the thought of going out to a war, fighting for glory and fame, villagers cheering as they went along their way, but it was much harder to think of that when she was behind someone in civilian clothing, not even more than an eating dagger at their side.

Through out the day Kel had heard her new nickname enough to grow used to it. She learned how to fill in latrines, cook bick, and feed an entire cohort of recruits, even as they gathered more. The days wore on, and she was learning the personalities in her file, which still hadn't extended beyond six.

Colnya was wiser than he appeared, and had become a good companion almost instantly, and she warmed up to him feeling comfortable.

Kessya was, as Bossik had said, was prickly, but he was a nice enough person. She got her assignments done and worked hard just like Kel had, but hadn't been much fun to talk to, and hadn't really been caught talking to anyone but Breah, the woman she'd been talking to in the inn. From what Kel had discovered from Breah they had joined together.

Cavis was simple, yet he seemed kind enough, if a little boring at first. Then she'd been proved terribly wrong, and discovered him to be a clever gambler and ladies man. He was interesting enough to talk to once she made it clear she wasn't interested in being one of his lovers.

Gellern turned out, unsurprisingly, to be a lazy drunkard who complained about the work they were doing every night. Instead of joining in, though, as Kel had been doing in her mind before she had noticed him doing it, it began to sink in that this work was necessary. You couldn't go around bringing servants and people who weren't going to fight with you in a war, so someone had to do the work. Gellern's complaints affirmed Kel's belief in the chores, rather than loosening them, and served to annoy rather than for bonding to anyone. Gellern had, however, managed to draw in another recruit with the idle protest. Burrik, the tall burly man she'd seen back at the inn – who did turn out to be a noble man's son, though why he joined all the way back here in the small towns and farmlands was beyond Kel, until she had it explained – at great length, and with his nose turned up higher than Kel thought reasonable – that he had joined earlier in the season, when they were still in Breaña, his home city, which he mentioned with – if possible – even more pride than before.

Nahen was distant, sticking close to Bossik and Seerge because she was doing a little more of the paper work than the rest, since she could read, unlike most of the others, and she was a file leader, in charge of her file, so despite the girl being quite a nice person, as Kel was sure she was, Kel had yet to learn much about Nahen.

That night at camp she was told to dig the latrines, one of the chores she hadn't done yet, with Colnya, who had dug them the night before, too, and knew the depth and length they had to be for being the easiest to deal with. It was then that Kel learned a real distaste for Gellern and Burrik…

"Well, if it isn't our pair of Ditch diggers," snickered Burrik nastily. Gellern, in close tow, snickered along side.

"They've been taking a while on here, huh?" asked Gellern. Kel bit down into a grimace. She knew that her being slow and having to correct her mistakes wasn't what they were going at, but it enraged her all the same.

"I'd wager that they haven't been digging the whole time," roared Burrik with a laugh. Kelnianné's face became red hot, her ears felt as if they would singe her hair. She wanted more than anything to retaliate, but she kept her head. A good thing, too, because at that moment Steerge came behind them, tapping their shoulders like a kindly old man.

"Now, now," he said wickedly. "At least they're doing their chores. And at least they aren't sneaking alcohol while on duty," he said, turning from one man to the other. Both of them turned red the fury, but said nothing.

"Right," said Steerge. "Now Burrik, get onto your share of camp work, and Gell, you're still trying to convince Bossik why we should keep you with us after already you've broken the rules. Off you go, both of you," he said, shooing them away.

It wasn't until the morning that Colnya and Kel felt truly avenged, when they heard that Gellern and Burrik had been told to fill the latrines before they moved out.

"I don't mind digging them the least bit if they're going to be the ones that fill 'em," laughed Colnya brightly.

And with that, the marching to Firris – the Duke's stronghold – continued.