Chapter 3

Northern Duenin

The foothills of the Isanami Mountains

Thunder vibrated the ground as it rumbled ominously; Sterling opened her eyes to the storm-ravaged valley. The familiar rocks, which had once stood the height of two men, now lay shattered by the force of the lightning. The debris lay in a perfect circle around the skeletal remains of a scorched tree that had once stood proud in the center of the shattered rocks. The grass that once filled the valley was now replaced by hard weather beaten brush.

The sky was a boiling cauldron of angry storm clouds, turning and tumbling on top of themselves. Wind swept through the valley eating away at what was left alive. The rains pelted the ground and where the valley dipped, the water began to rise.

As if floating above the landscape Sterling saw herself standing in the center of it all. She’d stood in this very spot almost every night in her dreams watching as the storm raged war upon the once beautiful valley. Every night she watched helplessly from her patch of dry ground as the lightning struck the tree until now it was nothing but a charred remnant of its once great self. The rocks that had protected the tree were shattered bits of debris that offered no resistance to the storms anger.

The steep walls of the valley rose to surround her. She felt so isolated and alone in this secret valley. Water threatened to overtake her small patch of dry ground that was a hillock that rose from the valley floor. The wind tore her hair from the braid, and wind driven rain stung as it hit her face along with wind whipped debris.

A small piece struck her in the face slashing her check. She put her hand up to the bloody cut when suddenly she felt a presence with her as if someone was watching her. Sterling scanned the surrounding area, but could see no one. An intense prickling arose on the back of her neck that felt like a thousand pins were being driven into her skin. She rubbed the spot but received no relief. “Whose there!” The wind tore the words from her mouth.

Turning in a circle, she saw no safe haven for her watcher. The ground was awash with rain water and no dry ground was to be seen from her perch. There was no avenue for escape from this valley, she’d sought it many times in the past, but there was no path, road, or game trail leading from this prison. She was surrounded on all sides by the rain filled valley.

Without warning the prickling intensified until she thought she would pass out from the pain and a loud voice boomed from the clouds vibrating the earth beneath her feet, “Othail gee Elementals!”And the pain was gone, just as quickly as it had come it was gone.

She watched the boiling clouds, as they seemed to draw closer. Sterling watched in terror, the sky lit up and bolts of lightning shot from the storm striking the ground near where she stood. She jumped back, but as her feet hit the ground a second bolt shot from the rolling clouds and struck Sterling throwing her back into the rising waters. Unconscious, she began to sink beneath the murky surface.

Sterling jolted awake from the dream, gasping for breath. It took her a moment to realize that she was still in her own bed. Safe in the tiny cottage she shared with her uncle. Sweat drenched the nightshirt she had slipped on the night before. Her skin was clammy and her heart raced with an unsteady beat. It had started as the same dream she always dreamt, but this time the ending was different. In the past, the lightning had only struck the ground around her, but this time the lethal bolts had hit her, knocking her into the murky floodwaters. An unusual feeling of dread washed over her so she threw herself back and covered her head with the threadbare cover. She closed her eyes in an attempt to go back to sleep, but it never came. The sound of twittering birds kept her company in her dark cocoon.

A sudden yawn forced stale oxygen into her burning lungs. She tried once again to relax her body, but no matter how hard she tried she did not think she would be able to go back to sleep. The fear of having the dream again was in the back of her mind as she threw the covers off allowing fresh air to finally reach her lungs. Sterling pushed the curtain back from the window and found the sun struggling to push the night’s darkness aside. There was still an hour or so of darkness left, but she knew that she would be unable to go back to sleep. She poured fresh water in to the basin and splashed the frigid liquid into her face. Sterling followed the same routine every morning but this morning the water seemed much colder and a sound much like a mouse squeak passed her lips. She scrubbed the last dredges of sleep from her eyes and felt much better for it.

She went through the rest of her normal routine, pulling on the leather pants that her uncle hated. He thought them unfit for a girl, but she’d protested the dreaded skirts that the women in Shee wore claiming they were too cumbersome on the farm. She wore a chemise under the cotton shirt and then a leather vest that laced on the sides. Once her dress completed she made her way quietly down the hall so as not to wake her uncle.

In the small kitchen, she raided the larder and found dried meat and a hunk of stale bread, perfect for an early morning breakfast. She put the hunk of bread between her teeth so she could grab a lambskin of ale. Her boots were held under her right arm the meat in one hand and the lambskin in the other. It took her three attempts to open the door and when she did finally get it open it banged against the cottage wall making an awful racket. She paused for just a moment to make sure she had not woken her uncle. When no sounds emitted from his room she tried to close the door, but her hands were too full to grab hold of the handle. Instead, she hooked the door with her bare foot and pulled it shut. She turned to make her way across the yard and walked into a wall. She was so startled she dropped everything she had gathered including the bread that she had held clinched between her teeth.

“Whoa.”

“Hell.”

“Watch that tongue missy.”

Her uncle did not abide curses from woman, he thought them unladylike. But he didn’t reserve his own curses and so she had picked up on his bad habit.

“What are you doing up so early?” Sterling asked in lieu of apologizing.

“I wanted to get a jump on the chores.”Sterling knew he was lying and he knew it. She followed his hand as he massaged the withering muscle of his thigh. Her eyes jumped back up to stare into his eyes.

“It’s getting worse isn’t?”

He avoided her question by asking his own, “What are you doing up so early? You’re usually snoring like a solider that just came off a month long campaign this time of the morning.”

“I guess I wanted to get a jump on the chores.”She threw his evasive comment back at him. They both knew the other was lying and they both knew the reason why. They’d played this game many times in the past.

“Well get to them then. I’ve collected the eggs so you can milk the cows.”

She glared up at Hemi. He knew she hated milking the cows. She wound up with more milk on her clothes that she did in the bucket.

“After that, I need you to collect some mountain hares for tonight’s supper. Mother Anwell will be stopping by for a visit.”

“Okay, let me just get my boots on.”

It was then that he noticed her breakfast scattered on the ground. “Ale, meat, and bread are no breakfast for a young lady.”

She handed the fare up to him so she could pull her boots on. “What difference does it make? It’s all going to the same place.”

“I should have sent you off to school like Mother Anwell had suggested. Come back in and I’ll fix you a proper breakfast.”

Sterling didn’t argue with him, Hemi’s breakfast were filling and lasted until lunch. She followed him into the small kitchen. “You know it would have been a waste of time if you’d sent me off to school.” She sat at the small table and watched as he pulled out the fixings for breakfast.

“You had the dream again.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah.” Sterling didn’t want to go into detail of the dream. She saw the worry in his eyes when she told him of the lightning.

Hemi watched Sterling as she picked at a piece of wood. Her dreams concerned him greatly. They’d started when she ten years old, the same age a warrior would have bonded with his Ghai. Could her spirit guide be causing the dreams in an attempt to find her? He dismissed the idea as soon as it entered his mind.

The smell of bacon frying caused Sterling’s stomach to growl. “What’s taking so long?” She protested.

“Keep your drawers on.”

Sterling was delighted by the plate of steaming food. Her cold breakfast paled in comparison. Hemi sat across from her, “Aren’t you going to eat?” She asked around a mouth full of egg.

“I ate when I awoke.” What he didn’t tell her is that he’d eaten much the same thing that she had pilfered; bread, dried meat and ale.

Sterling made quick work of the food and wiped her mouth with the napkin Hemi handed her before she could wipe her sleeve across her mouth. “You eat like a soldier.”

“I’ve had a great teacher, uncle. Now I’m off to my chores.”

“Don’t forget to feed the horses.” Hemi yelled across the yard. She waved that she heard him and entered the musty barn.

Hemi watched Sterling as she walked across the yard. He couldn’t believe how fast she had grown, how fast the years had sped by. He’d honored his vow to Khort and raised her as his own. Upon his return to Duenin he’d thought of taking her to his parent’s home in Nome, but he knew his parents would never accept a Kai’Varian in their home. They were of the belief, like so many Dueninians, that Kai’Varians were barbarians that sold their souls to the devil. Instead he’d found this tiny farm in the northern Sarno forest. It was isolated and as far from Moraug as he could manage. It had been difficult at first, raising a babe while trying to build the farm into a profit. Mother Anwell had agreed to help with Sterling in exchange for duties as a caretaker of the orphanage she ran. It was a benefit to them both and their relationship had only grown over the years. On occasion, such as tonight, Mother Anwell would visit their farm for supper. He turned and looked at the kitchen, it was a mess and set to cleaning the food from the dishes.

The smell of horseflesh and hay filled her nostrils when Sterling threw the doors back. She loved the barn and its aromas they were a comfort to her when she hid among the stacks of hay. She remembered hiding in the barn whenever a visitor came to the farm afraid they would look upon her with disdain. So often she had been teased because of her appearance. Her olive skin and gray eyes had led people to call her any number of derogatory names. The girls at the orphanage were no less cruel. A few had befriended her, but when they were adopted she would be alone once again. She’d taken to fighting with the other girls when they teased her. She’d had her backside tanned by Hemi’s belt so many times she thought she’d have a permanent red mark.

She’d hidden here also when a storm arose to bombard the land with its wrath. Afraid of the lightning she’d hid in the haystacks hoping to mute out the rumble of thunder and flash of lightning that tore across the forest. The fear had only intensified when her nightmares had started.

The low mooing of one of the cows reminded her why she was in the barn. She lit the lantern that hung outside the cows’ stall. The flame illuminated the black and white body of her nemesis. Cow’s head swung around to see who was disturbing her sleep – Sterling had not named this particular bovine because they had always disliked each other therefore she only referred to her as Cow. - Sterling didn’t think cows could glare, but she would swear that Cow now glared at her, daring her to take her milk.

“I’m going to milk you whether you like it or not.” She swore that the large brown eye rolled at her words.

Sterling placed an empty bucket under the cow and sat down on the low stool. Cautiously she started to milk the cow. The sound of milk hitting the bottom of the tin bucket filled the cavernous barn. Without warning, Cow shifted her weight so that the stream of milk missed the bucket and soaked Sterling’s boot.

“I don’t know what you have against me you old heifer.”

Cow looked back to see what damage she had caused.

Sterling pushed her back into place and continued to milk, only this time she kept her shoulder pressed into the side of the cow so she would not try the stunt again.

Sterling felt proud of herself, the bucket was three quarters of the way full and she was still relatively dry. She thought she would get out of milking the cow without having to go and change her clothes before finishing her other chores. It seemed that her overconfidence was her downfall. Cow shifted her weight again, this time away from Sterling, and with all her weight pushing into her side; there was nothing to stop Sterling from falling face first into the bucket of milk. Sterling was so angry she picked the bucket up and threw it across the room where it hit the wall making a loud clang.

Hemi was outside feeding the pigs when he heard the bucket hit the wall. Then a loud stream of curses that would make a sailor turn red with embarrassment came forth from the barn. Sterling came next as she threw the barn door aside. The door was two times her size, but her anger gave her the strength of three men. He watched her as she marched across the barnyard, her hair dripping with milk and her shirt plastered to her skin. Hemi swore he could see steam rising from the wet fabric. She looked like a drowned rat and he could not help but laugh at the site of her.

His laughing caught her attention and she stopped midway from the barn to the house. She glared at him and pointed a finger back at the barn, “You think that’s funny? I’m going kill that cow and serve her for dinner instead of hare!”

With the threat still in the air, she continued on her way to change clothes. He knew she hated milking the cow, but he thought it good for her to have a challenger that wouldn’t back down from her. She was used to people backing down when she felt threatened and her eyes shown with a fierce anger. He knew it would take her a while to wash the milk off and change clothes so he was surprised when the cottage door slammed against the wall and Sterling emerged with her dagger clutched in a tight fist.

“Sterling! What are you doing?” He yelled the question as he started on a course to intercept her on the way back to the barn.

She did not take her eyes off the barn, “I told you I’m going to kill that fat heifer and serve her for dinner.”

She was much faster than him. He could only limp his way across the yard and so he finally caught up with her just as she was about to enter the darkness of the barn.

“Oh no you don’t, give me that knife.” He may limp but he was still stronger than her and so he was able to pry the dagger from her clinched fist.

“I hate that cow!”

“Cool your temper girl. Killing her is not going to solve anything. You need to figure out a way to solve this problem with your head not a knife.”

She glared up at him. The anger that he saw in her eyes was slowly dissipating. Her shoulders slumped when she realized she couldn’t kill the cow. “Fine, but don’t be surprised when one day you find her missing and a nice fat steak on you dinner plate.”

Glaring at Hemi, she returned to the cottage to change her milk soaked clothes. Hemi walked into the barn and looked around at the mess caused by Sterling’s anger. The bucket was lying in a pool of milk clear across the barn. The yoke for the donkey was leaning against the wall where it looked like she threw it. A bale of hay was kicked over and hay was scattered across the floor. He knew she had a temper, but she rarely let it get this out of control. He worried that one-day she would not be able to control it and would wind up killing someone. He had seen the same temper in her father when he was with him in the Sandori. He had protected Khort from killing on two occasions. He’d taken the brunt of the Kai’s temper both times and had several scars to prove it.

Sterling found her uncle in the barn surveying the damage her temper had wrought. She cleared her throat so he would know she was there. His hands were on his hips and he turned only his head as he stared back at her. “Sorry.”

“Clean it up and then finish milking the cows and the rest your chores. You’ve wasted enough time on your tantrum.”

His words brought her head up, “But that cow…”

“That cow is obviously smarter than you if she can get your goat up. You need to figure out a way to win without killing her. She’s a stupid cow for crying out loud!”

The cow in question protested being called stupid by letting out loud moo and kicking the wood of the stall door. Hemi turned to the cow and pointed a finger at the swishing tail, “You just mind your manners or you will end up on some one’s plate.”

Sterling giggled behind her hand. She found it funny that he was reprimanding a cow.

“I have more important things to do than break up a fight between two women.”With that he left the barn to leave Sterling to clean up her mess.

Sterling sat in a secluded hollow in the forest waiting for a mountain hare to make an appearance. Her thoughts, however, were back at the barn where she had successfully milked the cow. She followed her uncle’s advice and used her head instead of her temper. She’d tied each of the cow’s leg to a corner of the stall to keep her from moving. The cow hadn’t liked being tied down, but Sterling had milked her without getting a single drop of milk on her new change of clothes. She’d untied the cow before leaving and patted her on the rump. “See ya tomorrow.” She had said as she left the barn, the cow’s loud mooing followed her triumphant walk back to the cottage.

She found herself fighting sleep as she chuckled at the memory of the look on her Hemi’s face as she poured the bucket of milk into the milk can in the kitchen.

She had started the day much earlier than normal and her body was ready for a nap and her eyes proved too heavy for her to keep open. She gave into the draw of sleep and nestled herself down into the soft leaf litter.

The dream came quickly this time. As before, it started out the same as always. But again, just like this morning the lightning struck her throwing her body back, into the water.

She came awake quickly and found herself disoriented. Expecting to see the walls of her room she found herself in the forest instead. A sparrow, startled by Sterling’s sudden movements twittered and flew off to a safer distance.

Still unsettled by the dream Sterling rubbed her forehead only to find herself soaked in sweat. The trees suddenly swayed around her, pushed by a breeze that passed over her sweat-dampened skin causing a chill to shake her. She wasn’t sure how long she had slept, but she didn’t think it was very long for the shadows of the trees showed that the day was still early.

A movement by the briar bush caught her attention. A mountain hare was nibbling on the sweet berries. Their brown fur camouflaged them in the summer, blending perfectly with the leaf litter. When winter came their soft fur turned white to match the thick blanket of snow that covered the forest floor. Her uncle, who was an authority on everything, declared that their meat much sweeter than their larger cousins because of the sweet berries they ate in the spring and summer. She didn’t care for the taste of hare but Mother Anwell thought them delicious.

Sterling lifted her bow and notched an arrow; careful not to startle the hare she drew the bowstring back as she took aim. The wide leaves of the briar bush obscured her shot so Sterling was unable to take her shot. She relaxed her arm and waited for the hare to move.

Mother Anwell was due for supper tonight so she needed more meat than usual. Once she nabbed this one she would move to a different location. The hares were cautious and would avoid a bush where one of their relatives had fallen victim to a hunter. Usually it was her uncle that would hunt for the meat, but ever since Hemi had been injured fighting off raiders she had assumed the role of hunter.

She had taken on other chores Hemi could no longer perform. One of chores was being the caretaker down at the Mother Anwell’s orphanage where she raised the unwanted daughters of Duenin.

Hemi did not like her going alone, afraid the same raiders that had attacked their farm would come upon her. He reminded her every time she left that there was always the threat that bandits would be hiding in the woods. He’d raised her to defend herself and she reminded him of that fact this morning as she had packed her lunch and arrows for the day.

“I can take care of myself and the men that attacked the farm are long gone by now. Besides, the army has been patrolling the forest the past few weeks. It’s more likely I’ll come across soldiers than bandits.”

“I still don’t like it and soldiers are not much better than a roving group of bandits.”

Their banter had continued until she walked out the door and turned to remind him of her offer from that morning, “There’s still the cow. Imagine a nice juicy steak on your plate instead of some gamy wild rabbit.”

“Go on with ya.” He said, exasperated by her offer.

As she closed the gate to the yard behind her he yelled, “Be careful!”

With his words of caution, Sterling waved good-bye and set out with her bow and arrows, and her knife in her boot. He had started training her at the age of ten how to properly hold a knife and to use it when the need arose. He wanted to make sure she could defend herself, especially living so close to the Leyenese border. He was always worried a slaver would kidnap her and carry her away to be sold to a Menazarin, the rich nobility of Na’Dur, who kept the fair Dueninian girls in their harem, training them to be pleasure slaves. Na’Dur was Duenin’s neighbor to the north on the other side of the Isanami Mountains and because their close proximity soldiers patrolled the area often to fight off any stray raiding parties that managed to make it through the mountain passes.

The little brown hare moved to the next branch of the briar bush, filling its cheeks with berries and giving Sterling a clear shot. This little one had an appetite, and if her uncle was right would be as sweet as the briar bush berries.

Sterling sighted down the shaft of the arrow, and just as she was about to let loose the arrow the hare’s ears perked up sensing danger. Along with bandits, bears and wolves patrolled the Sarno as well and one always had to be mindful of their surroundings. Hesitating for a moment to listen herself, she missed her chance to snag the hare as it jumped out of sight.

“Damn.” Sterling said under her breath as she released the tension in the bowstring. She looked around to see what had startled the little hare but there was no immediate threat. She sat quietly under the pepper willow listening for what had startled the animal, but all she heard was the whooping call of nutterbird and the scratching of insects under the bed of leaves. Two squirrels skittered around the treetops defending their territory.

Without warning thunder rolled in the distance. She looked up through the forest canopy and saw the first signs of a storm, “Double Damn.” She said, “Just what I need to end the perfect day.”

Sterling gathered her quiver and the bag she had brought with her that held a half a loaf of bread and lambskin of water. The sack was still full because she’d fallen asleep before she had had a chance to eat the bread and water.

Sterling headed north through the forest. There were no trails to speak of this deep in the forest so she found herself having to climb over fallen trees and dodge low hanging branches. Hemi would be furious if he knew how far from home she had traveled.

The forest, usually alive with sounds of life, was eerily quiet all of a sudden. A chill ran threw her as she realized how vulnerable she was alone and so far from home.

Picking up her pace she headed in the direction, she had come from this morning. She came to another fallen tree, and where she expected to find the small game trail, she had followed, there was nothing. No game trail, no walking path, and absolutely nothing that looked recognizable. She turned and went in another direction hoping to find some tree or rock or anything that she would remember, but there was no rock or tree that she recognized. Sterling was beginning to get nervous; if she did not beat the storm home, there was no telling what kind of trouble she would be in. Hemi was always careful about her being outside during the storms. As a child he’d told her stories of grown men being struck by lightning and how he’d hate to see her go through the agony of being hit by a bolt. He always insisted that she stay in when the weather threatened one of its tempests. He’d rescued her from the barn any number of times when she would hide in the haystacks.

She had snuck out once during a storm when she was just a child and had hid under a tree that was struck by a bolt. When her uncle found her, she was curled up in a ball under the tree crying. He was so furious he spanked her bottom until she couldn’t sit down for two days and at the same time crying and thanking the gods she was safe. She had not tried sneaking out again after that.

Somehow she found her way back at the pepper willow where she had started. The quietness of the forest felt strange to Sterling, as if she was being watched. The woods suddenly felt menacing. The silence was so complete that her heart pounded in her ears, “What have you gotten yourself into now?” Sterling said aloud, the sound of her own voice startled her.

Laughing nervously, Sterling surveyed the forest around her, turning in a circle, looking for anything that she recognized. Then she saw it, a broken branch on a nottyknee pine sapling. Relief washed over her, “Hello there.” She said, walking towards the pine named for its knee like roots that protruded from the sides of the trunk.

She had forgotten about the branch. When she first arrived at the clearing, her long hair had snagged on the prickly needles of the pine. When she had untangled the mass the branch had snapped in two.

Sterling pushed past the tree and at last found familiar surroundings. She finally made it to the game trail, but not before having to retrace her steps twice more. She had wasted precious time trying to find the little path. Next time, if there even were a next time, she would make sure to leave markings when she ventured this far.

Thunder rolled across the sky, Sterling picked up her pace until the game trail met up with the forest road that ran east to west and bisected the forest. Sterling was in the southern half of the forest, which was much denser than the northern side. The road was a major thoroughfare between New Aldan and Shee and between the two ran the Valley River. The road and the river divided the forest in to four sections. The few villages that dotted the landscape were built in northeast section of the forest.

Sterling and her uncle lived in the northwest section on their small farm. The only way to get to their farm was along the road that led to The Lady of the Vale Orphanage and then across the river to the farm. Along with being caretakers of the grounds, they also supplied the orphanage with food from their farm. They also sold barley to the Black Boar, a tavern located in Shee. Her uncle and the owner of the Black Boar were old friends. They had served in the army together when they were both much younger and had returned to Shee after serving.

Heading east toward Shee, Sterling passed merchants and travelers on their way to and from Shee which was a major commerce center for Duenin because of its location. Both Na’Dur and Leyen were within a day’s journey. So the merchants and farmers in the northern region of the country brought their goods to Shee to sell. And any one of them could be looking for a slave girl, for that reason Sterling stared each one of them down so that they were the first to look away. It wasn’t uncommon for corrupt merchants to kidnap for the purpose of slavery. They usually took the more timid of girls and boys leaving the stronger ones alone. Sterling had been a timid child, but growing up she’d toughened in to a strong woman so she felt she was safe on her walk through this unfamiliar portion of the Sarno.

Thunder rolled in the distance, just as a wagon laden with knickknacks rattled to a stop beside her. It was a Leyenese merchantmen’s wagon. The Leyenese traveled the countryside selling their wares. Hanging from the wagon were cooking utensils, earthenware bowls, and readymade clothes for men and women, toys for children and brightly colored scarves to attract the young ladies of Duenin. Not all the Leyenese merchantmen prowled for desirables to sell in the slave markets, but those that were hid their agenda behind the many legitimate goods that were sold off the back of their wagons. Some Leyenese sold elixirs that promised to cure any number of ailments, claiming they were made from the healing flowers from the Valley of Sula. However, most of the time it was just flavored water that did nothing more than give a sick person hopes of being well.

“Give you a ride vishca?” The driver asked, using a Leyen endearment, as he pulled the two horses to a slow walk along side of Sterling.

Hemi had madecertain she could speak several languages, especially those of countries that were not always friendly to Duenin. He taught her to always know your enemies and that included their language.

Sterling gave a sideways glance at the Leyenese man driving the wagon, “No. Thank you.” She was polite on the off chance that he was a legitimate merchantman.

He continued to ride along side of Sterling. She did not look at him, but she kept him in peripheral vision, keeping her body ready in case she needed to run.

“Come vishca, I have plenty room for you. Where like you go?” He patted the empty seat next to him in the wagon.

Again, she refused his help, “I’m fine. Thank you.”

“I insist, let Motego give you ride. You go to Shee? Come I take you.”If anything, he was persistent.

“I said I was fine, now please leave me alone.”

“Very well Vishca.” He nodded his head and he slapped the reins, but instead of going straight along the road the merchantman suddenly veered the horses in front of Sterling blocking her way.

“You come with Motego.” The driver’s face split into a sinister grin. He startled Sterling even more as he jumped to the ground landing just a foot in front of her.

No sooner had the dust settled around the driver’s feet than the flap of the covered wagon flew open and another man jumped to the ground blocking any escape. Dropping her load, Sterling backed up and pulled the knife from her boot as she faced the two men.

Motego was a grisly old man and when he smiled Sterling could see the gap where his two front teeth should have been. Deep lines creased his forehead and the lines around his mouth cut into his cheeks. Skin weathered by the sun hid dark brown eyes beneath sagging eyelids. His thick head of hair was white speckled with its original brown. He was a smallish man, not much taller than Sterling’s height of five foot three.

The driver’s sidekick was his exact opposite, tall and built like an ox. Despite his size he had a baby face, his skin clear of any creases or wrinkles. Sterling was more concerned with the sidekick than she was with the driver.

“Such a pretty vishca, don’t you think Franto?”Motego rubbed his grimy hands together. It was then she noticed he was missing the third finger of his left hand. It looked to have been sliced off just at the second knuckle.

“Vishca pretty.” The sidekick said with a childlike smile.

Sterling examined the sidekick again and realized he may be a giant but he had the mind of child. “Neither of you will be taking me anywhere.” She held the knife in a loose grip her knees slightly bent, just as her uncle had taught her.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. I don’t have time for these two clobhas, Sterling thought as she eyed the oncoming storm.

“You come with us; we give you lots of pretty baubles. Men love pretty Dueninian vishca.”

“Vishca, pretty. Franto want pretty.” The sidekick said again as he lunged for Sterling. She was ready for the attack, Sterling landed on her toes as she sprung back from his meaty fist. Knees bent, ready for his next attempt to grab her. When his fingers latched on to her free arm she tried to pull away, but he squeezed his muscular hands until she winced in pain. Gaining control of her senses she slashed her blade across his knuckles forcing him to release her. Blood dripped from the deep gash on to Sterling’s arm, the blood garish on her white shirt.

“Hurt!” Franto pulled his hand away from Sterling afraid she might cut him again. He sucked on his bleeding knuckles hoping to ease the sting. He looked at her over the bloody knuckles, anger showed in his childlike eyes. Removing his hand from his mouth he came at her again, blood covering his mouth. He swung his uninjured arm at Sterling, but she ducked under the hammer like fist and slashed her knife across the soft flesh under his arm. Red blood immediately darkened his brown shirt. “Vishca hurt Franto!” He cried, stepping away from the painful blade.

“Duenin bitch.” Motego hissed, a long knife suddenly appearing in his lean hands.

He advanced on Sterling, backing her onto the edge of the road. His knife held out in front of him, ready to use if she tried to attack.

Sterling took another step back; her foot caught in a deep rut in the road she tripped falling backwards into the brush. Something sharp jabbed into her side causing her breath to catch, her eyes opening wide at the pain.

The driver jumped back as he crossed himself, “Qutret! Witch!” Sterling was confused at first, until she saw Motego staring at her face. It was then she knew he had seen her eyes. He crossed himself because she stared up at him with two silver gray eyes. This is one time she was thankful for her strange eyes. Usually it stung when people warded themselves against evil when she crossed their path.

Stumbling back to the wagon, the Motego called to Franto, “Come Franto, she is qutret.”He crossed himself again as Franto climbed up to sit beside him, still sucking the cut on his knuckles.

“Hyah!”Motego whipped the horses to get them moving. The horses were at full gallop before the dust settled on the deserted road.

She’d been called a witch before, it was nothing new to her, but it still hurt to be shunned because of something she had no control over. Growing up she’d seen people ward themselves against her when she’d traveled with her uncle to Shee. She’d asked him why they didn’t like her. He’d not answered her at first, but eventually explained that they were afraid of what they did not know.

He’d said that she had inherited her eyes from her mother. Sterling had never met her parents. Her mother died shortly after giving birth, and Sterling resented her for the gift she did not want. Her father, Hemi had explained, had been killed in battle. He was Hemi’s brother and so Hemi had taken her as an infant and raised her.

Sterling pulled herself out of the bushes and brushed herself off. Gathering her discarded gear, she started down the road again pulling out bits of leaves and twigs from her hair. Her tail end felt bruised where she had fallen into the brush, the broken stems had jabbed her in the ribs. She pulled back her shirt to find whelps raised on her ribs where they had torn threw the material. Her arm was already showing a bruise where Franto had squeezed the tender flesh. She would have a hard time explaining her injuries to her uncle.

The sound of hoof beats sounded behind her along the road to Shee. As she dusted herself off a group of Severon soldiers came to a halt beside her. The leader stared down at her behind hard blue eyes, his hair a dark blonde.

“We are looking for a Leyenese merchantman.”

Sterling’s heart pounded in her chest, she’d avoided being singled out by the Severon by hiding whenever they passed by the farm. She avoided direct eye contact with the Stratum’s personal army by pulling twigs out of her hair, she pointed in direction her attackers had just disappeared. “You just missed them.”

Their leader gave orders to his men and as they rode off he remained where he was staring down at her. “Have we met?” He asked. She felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny. The Severon were known for their brutality when dealing with prisoners and she had no desire to be under this one’s thumb.

“No, I don’t think so.”She answered without looking at him. “Well, I’ll be off then.”Sterling said as she started to cross the street, the Severon still watching her.

The day suddenly darkened as the storm clouds blocked the sun. Thunderheads soared into the sky reaching for the heavens, their tips white from the sun, but the base of the storm was an ominous color that threatened to unleash hell upon the land.

She looked back at the soldier before entering the forest, his eyes trained in on hers. She knew the moment he saw her gray eyes, his widened in surprise and his fist tightened on the reins. “Commander!”His attention was drawn to his men for a split second and she knew he was torn between chasing her down and going after the Leyenese. She used this moment to her advantage and hurried into the cover of trees. She saw his surprise when he turned back to see that she was no longer there. Sterling cringed at his curse. He spurred his horse after his men and she watched behind cover as he disappeared down the road. Relief washed over her as she stepped back on to the road.

Sparks crisscrossed from one cloud to the next as the storm grew in strength. The storm seemed to be moving much quicker than normal, but Sterling felt she still had enough time to get home before the storm let loose its wrath. She still did not want to be out in the open so she veered off the main road and took a familiar short cut through the woods. She knew this portion of the forest very well and the path to the orphanage and then to home was just on the other side of the trees.

She emerged from the forest at the bottom of a hill; just on the other side was the orphanage. The dense canopy of the Sarno had blocked her view of the sky, so as she made her way on to the much smaller road, Sterling glanced up to find clouds looming over head. Picking up her pace, Sterling jogged up the steep hill. Reaching the top of the hill, Sterling came to a stop hands on her knees sucking air into her lungs. The heat of the day had quickly zapped her energy. Hopefully the storm would bring some relief from the oppressive temperatures.

As she began the much easier trek down the hill, Sterling heard laughter filtering through the trees. She was too far from the orphanage to be hearing children at play. Standing still once again, she listened. Laughter filtered through the dense undergrowth just on the other side of a stand of trees.

Curious, Sterling started in the direction of the laughter. She had to stop a couple of times to relocate the children, until finally she came to a small clearing. There in the middle were three of the younger girls from the orphanage. They were too busy picking wild flowers to notice her. Sterling recognized all three of the girls, Kenra, the ringleader and her two followers Erin and Brigit. Kenra wore a crown of larkspurs upon her blonde head while she held court in the quite meadow. Brigit and Erin herloyal subjects.

She started toward the threesome when Kenra’s head popped up, “Sterling!”Erin and Brigit’s heads came up at their friend’s excited squeal. Kenra, the most outgoing of the three had a knack for getting herself and her two friends into all sorts of mischief.

“What are you girls doing out here all alone?” She came to a stop beside Erin. The little girl was tying a pink ribbon around a bouquet of wild flowers.

“We’re picking flowers for Sister Treva.”Erin held the bouquet up for Sterling’s inspection. “See.”

The flowers were wilted and half the petals had fallen off the larkspurs, “I’m sure she will love them.”

If the two merchantmen had found these girls instead of Sterling, they would be on their way to a Leyenese slave market. The thought of these innocent girls in the hands of slavers angered Sterling to the point that if she could she’d hunt them down and make sure they took no other innocents from the borders of Duenin.

She glanced back at the tree line where the storm clouds loomed on the horizon.

“Mother Anwell, however, will not be pleased if you are not back before this storm hits.”

Brigit’s little blonde head popped up at Sterling’s warning. Both her parents had been killed in a storm such as the one brewing. She was terrified of the thunder and lightning.

“Come along now,” Sterling helped the three girls gather their bundles of flowers they’d collected for Sister Treva, “I’ll see you home.”

The girls skipped and jumped their way through the meadow singing songs along the say. Erin and Kenra ran ahead of Brigit, who preferred to stay back by Sterling and hold her hand. Poor Brigit had a pronounced limp caused by one leg being shorter than the other.

Loosing site of the other girls Sterling felt the urge to hurry Brigit along, but she was already struggling to keep up with Sterling’s much longer stride.

Thunder rumbled, much closer this time. Sterling could feel the vibrations through her body. A flock of birds flew over head fleeing the oncoming tempest.

As they emerged from the trees Sterling looked up to find the storm clouds on top of them. The sparks highlighted the angry black clouds that seemed to float just above the trees, as they shot off deep within the heart of the storm. The thunder pounded at a constant rate, so close was the lightning strikes.

Sterling could not take her eyes off the storm, transfixed by the boiling mass of fury, lightning flashed in the distance as thunder rocked the ground. With her face turned up, rain began to splash down upon her face, the drops as fat as Beracian grapes.Sterling felt a tug at her arm, she glanced down to see Brigit pulling her towards the orphanage, “Come on Sterling!” Coming out of her trance she agreed with the little imp, “Yes, let’s go.” She turned and scooped the little girl into her arms and started down the hill at a fast jog. Brigit’s weight and the angle of the hill made Sterling feel as if she would lose her footing and topple down the hill.

The rain, whipped by the fierce wind, pelted her face blinding her, the dirt in the road now slippery with mud. With Brigit bouncing in her arms, Sterling found it difficult to keep her footing and stumbled to her knees. Without putting the girl down she struggled to her feet just as a bolt of lightning slammed into the ground just feet from the side of the road, sparks flew from the ground showering them. One of the sparks burnt through Brigit’s dress, singeing her delicate skin. Brigit whimpered and shoved her face into Sterling’s shoulder.

Sterling could see the steeple of the chapel that sat next to the orphanage. “We’re almost there sweetie.” She comforted the frightened child as she ran towards the field that lay in front of the two buildings. Sterling could see the tiny figures of Erin and Kenra standing in the door with Mother Anwell and the Sisters. Other girls peeked around her black skirts wanting to see what all the excitement was about

Another bolt hit the ground; this time the force of the impact threw Sterling forward, she turned her body so she would not flatten little Brigit. Sterling landed on her side, pain shot through her hip and shoulder as they hit the hard ground. Brigit falling away from her body landed in a heap, her white dress covered in brown mud. Sterling herself was covered in the muck.

Picking herself up, she reached for Brigit. The hairs on her arms stood on end; she could feel the static in the air. Afraid of what she would see Sterling glanced over her shoulder, the storm hung over head threatening them with its fury. Sparks speed crazily across the surface of the clouds as they started to congregate in one area. Sterling knew what this meant, a bolt was about to be let loose from storm and she and Brigit were its target.

She quickly gathered the little girl in her arms and made a final dash for the safety of the orphanage. The crackle of the sparks caused goose bumps to raise the hairs on her arms. Lungs heaving and her legs pumping Sterling ran as fast as she could, but a flash of light told her it was too late. She did the only thing she could think of and that was to fall to the ground covering the little girl with her body, but the ground was muddy and when Sterling landed on her side Brigit slid away from her. She reached for the girl, but it was too late, she saw the reflection of the storm in a puddle. She watched as the bolt shot from the clouds. “Run!” She yelled to the little girl.

Brigit limped as she ran across the yard; she fell into Mother Anwell’s arms.

Sterling felt as if she were in her dream, the water lapping at her feet, no escape from the fury of the storm. She closed her eyes just as pain engulfed her body, she felt herself go stiff as electricity coursed through her veins. Pain so intense congregated at the base of her neck. Her back arched as the pain coursed down her spine and spread to fingers and toes and her vision blurred until everything went black. The last thing she saw was Mother Anwell in the doorway.

Anwell Goutier, High Mother at the Lady of The Vale Orphanage comforted the crying Brigit as she watched in horror as Sterling was struck by the bolt. She’d heard of people being hit by lightning, but had never witnessed the storms fury unleashed on any living soul.

“Take the girls to the dormitory.”She ordered the Sisters. She didn’t want the younger girls to see Sterling; they were all so fond of her. “Treva, Nisa come with me.”

Anwell stepped off the top step, followed closely by the two sisters. She looked cautiously up at the storm that still brewed over the clearing. Rain fell in steady sheets that quickly filled in the lower lying areas. Never in her sixty two years had she seen it rain like this. The storms that usually bombarded them were violent, but quick. This storm was unrelenting in its deluge.

Lightning continued to streak across the sky as thunder rumbled through the clouds. Wind whipped by the storm picked up rain and debris and swirled mini tornados across the clearing. The trees danced to the wild rhythm until they looked as if they would snap in two.

They were half way across the clearing when suddenly another bolt shot out of the sky. She thought at first it had hit Sterling again, but realized quickly it had struck the ground beside her. “What in all of Na’imah?”She asked in disbelief as the lightning continued its assault until a circle of chard earth encircled Sterling’s silent form.

“Come on ladies, we must hurry before she is struck again.”They hurried their pace and were almost on top of her when the circle that had been burned by the lightning burst into flames.

“Oh!” Treva screamed as her skirts caught fire. She quickly batted the flames.

“Have mercy!” Anwell yelled at the storm.

She was thrown backwards when a bolt shot from the sky to land at her feet.

“Are you okay?”Nisa helped Anwell to her feet as they watched helpless as the fire that encircled Sterling was swept into a cone of fire obscuring their view. Anwell’s habit was ripped from her head and her long gray hair unraveled from its tightly coiled bun to whip across her face.

Mud, water, and debris joined the cone of fire as the wind intensified. They reached towards the clouds growing as the fire intensified. As the rain hit the flames steam rose, but the fire so intense was not affected by the deluge. Wind so powerful it lifted Sterling off the ground and the cone turned in on itself to form a ball around Sterling enclosing her in the maelstrom. The ball began to close in on her and brightened to an intense white orange like that of a branding iron before it singed the flesh. Anwell was thrown backwards when the ball exploded into a brilliant white light that flew out from the ball like a ripple in water.

Anwell felt helpless and prayed for the storm to release its hold on Sterling. “Rameel, have mercy!”She prayed to the Kai’Varians’ sky god.

Her prayer must have worked because as quickly as the storm had attacked it released its hold on Sterling. The ball of fire and debris dissipated and the storm clouds relented to the sun’s heat and quickly retreated over the horizon. The trees stood as still as soldiers as they stood looking over Sterling.

She turned to Nisa, “Send Gweneth to get Hemi!”The nun turned and ran to do Anwell’s bidding.She knelt beside Sterling where she had landed and turned her over. She placed her fingers on the side of her neck, afraid she would not feel what she sought. She was surprised when she found the pulse beat, “She’s alive.” She said in disbelief. “Come, help me get her inside.” Both she and Sister Treva lifted Sterling’s limp body and carried her towards the Orphanage.

Hemi was in the coral trying to calm the horses when he saw the horse and rider tear into the stable yard. The horses had been spooked when the ground had trembled beneath them and then the odd light that had speed past. He’d been thrown backwards into the fence.

At first he thought the rider was Sterling, but realized quickly the rider was much smaller than Sterling and was wearing a dress. It took him only a moment to recognize Gweneth Exley from the orphanage. It was obvious when she jumped down from the horse that she had yet to see him. She cupped her hands around her mouth and was yelling his name.

He started in her direction before she noticed him. She turned in a complete circle, when she saw him she started running towards him.

His first feelings of unease lodged in his chest at the girl’s urgency. Gweneth hurried for no one but herself. For an orphan she was the most spoiled and vain child he had ever known.

When she finally reached him her chest was heaving and she had to bend over double to catch her breath. “H-Hemi, thank goodness.”

“What’s the matter girl, what is wrong?”

“The-There was a storm.”

“Yes, I saw it. Is everyone okay?”

“N-No.”She shook her head and then stood and looked up at him, “Sterling was there. She was hit by lightning.”

Hemi’s breath rushed from his lungs. It was he who had to bend over to catch his breath. He felt as if something had hit him in the chest robbing him of the ability to breath.

“Is she-,” he hesitated for a moment not wanting to ask the question, “Is she alive?”

He was surprised when Gweneth answered, “Yes. Mother Anwell has taken her into the orphanage.”

Not saying anything else he turned and walked as fast as he could to the barn and saddled his horse. Thoughts were racing through his head as he mounted and with Gweneth trailing behind they returned to the orphanage.

He pulled up in the courtyard where he saw the charred circle in ground. His heart stopped at the sight as memories of the ritual performed so long ago rattled around in his head. What did all this mean?

Before he could dismount Sister Treva was standing next to him.

“She is alright Hemi.”

“What happened?”He dismounted as he asked the question

“Kenra and two of the other girls had wandered off. Apparently Sterling found them and brought them back, but she did not make it before the storm hit.” Treva led Hemi through the halls of the orphanage and to the infirmary.

Hemi came to a stop just inside the door of the infirmary. The room was empty except for the bed occupied by Sterling and Eva, the Sister who attended her. The sight of her nearly brought him to his knees. She looked so helpless in her stillness. Her skin was pale in comparison to its normal warmth. Her hair was fanned out around the pillow like the darkest of nights. He took a hesitant step towards the bed. His legs felt heavy and stiff, unwilling to move.

“She was carrying Brigit when the lightning struck.”

His thoughts were so concentrated on Sterling that Treva’s quite voice jolted him.

He looked down at the smaller woman, “Can I?“ he gestured towards the bed and Sterling.

“Yes, of course. Take your time Hemi.”

Hemi stopped next to the bed and pulled a wooden chair to its side. As he sat the old wood of the chair creaked. It seemed much louder in the quietness of the room.

He wiped his hands on his pants and took Sterling’s hand in his own. He expected her skin to be cold as in death, but he was surprised to find heat radiating from her skin.

“She has the fever.” He made the statement more to himself than to Eva.

“No, there is no fever, she sweats. See.”Eva pointed to Sterling’s face. Indeed, her hairline was dampened with sweat.

“There is more I must tell you.”Treva said quietly behind him. “When she was struck Hemi a circle was burned into the ground by the lightning. It, it burst into flames before we could get her inside.”

“What?”Hemi asked turning to face Anwell’s assistant.

Treva pulled a chair up beside Hemi; for she knew he would not leave Sterling’s side. She looked him in the eye and told him everything that had happened to Sterling. She included every minute detail including the lightning that had nearly struck Mother Anwell when she begged for mercy.

“Hemi, Sterling is a miracle, no one has ever survived anything as she had. The gods must have something special planned for your niece.”

Hemi’s head shot up to stare dumbfounded at Treva. He reached up and felt the money pouch he wore beneath his shirt. He could feel the outline of the pendant that was entrusted to him so many years ago. But there was something else, heat. The same heat that radiated from Sterling also radiated from the pendant.

The burned circle in the earth and now the pendant; had the time finally come? Vash’Te had said he would know when the time was right, was this it?