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strength and pride of the mighty oak, with a final circle of the same design tattooed on his chest to protect his heart from demons. He was not a warrior, so was denied facial tattooed by Tribal custom.

            “Do you think the sword will be enough to gain me a place in the Royal Smithy?” Tane said as he cleaned up.

            There were rumors of war, and the king had even called for all the village levies to begin training in earnest. Tane saw it as his big chance. If he could join the Royal Smithy as a swordsmith for the king, he would gain both status and wealth. Status, for only the finest smiths were employed by the Royal Smithy, and wealth because the king paid in good gold by the sword produced. If the war lasted long enough, he would have the reputation and means to set up a forge anywhere he wanted.

            “If you can avoid the army,” Kyle said, frowning.

            Tane nodded sagely. His father had been “inducted” into the army to produce swords in his youth. He received soldiers pay, and bad rations. He spent half his time welding together broken blades after battles. The latter had been the worst part, for he knew the poor souls who were issued those defective blades were as good as dead.

            “I’ll be careful,” Tane said, remembering the disturbing dreams he had recently endured.

            In the previous night’s dream, nightmare really, he was slaving over an impossibly hot forge, on the most splendid blade he could imagine. Only a Royal Smithy could produce such swords, and only for the highest nobles and generals, so he knew where he had to go. But there was an oppressive presence hovering near, threatening blackest death and despair. The blackness was closing in, closer and closer as he worked more and more frantically. Somehow, he just knew he had to finish that particular sword before.... And that’s where he always woke; never knowing what was threatening him. Tane believed it was a sign from Kamain that he was needed in the war, so he was going to the city of Kestsax to serve King Borric.

            “Ashtar strike me down if that isn’t the handsomest man I ever did see!” Aunt Mercia cried as she and Uncle Calvan came in off the street, trailed by their six towheaded daughters. She stumped over to Tane on her peg leg and gave him a fierce hug. “And just the way I like my men, half-naked!”

            Tane blushed bright, casting quick eyes back toward the door into the house. His mother never approved of Aunt Mercia’s loud and brazen ways, even though everyone knew the ex-warrior was harmless, and intensely loyal to her beloved husband.

            Uncle Calvan had met and fallen in love with the friendly, golden-haired Amazon while serving as a mercenary with her in the western Jarlands. They had campaigned together for five years before Mercia lost her left leg at the knee, ending her soldiering days forever. Once Calvan finished his contract, he and Mercia returned to his home village. He bought out the village farrier and he and Mercia made a life for themselves.

            “Auntie, you’re looking good today,” Tane said. Then he looked at her in mock shock, “Auntie Mercia, where’s your sword? Who is going to protect your helpless daughters from all those graspy men?”

            The younger four girls giggled, but the two eldest gave Tane stern looks of defiance. Jessica, the eldest, and just two years Tane’s junior, even jutted out her jaw challengingly.

            “We can fend for ourselves, cousin,” Jessy declared, bright green eyes flashing. “We’re warrior-born.”

            “And I hear you are as fierce as a cornered boar, Jessy,” Tane said, winking.

            “Jessy whipped the miller’s son yester-eve,” the youngest declared proudly.

            “I heard,” Tane said, struggling to keep his smile. Jessy wouldn’t be the least bit flattered if she knew how close he came to going over and stomping on that bastard himself. The nerve of Deke asking Jessy to do that! “I also heard that old man Heddwyn wanted your Pa to horse whip Jessy for it.”

            “Pa laughed,” Jessy said, grinning at the memory.

            “Man can’t fend for himself, it’s pretty pathetic to expect others to do it for him,” Calvan said. “Besides, Jessy wasn’t the one I would’ve horse-whipped.”

            “Oh, Pa,” Jessy said, rolling her eyes, but grinning all the while. She looked at Tane smugly, saying, “Ma’s been teaching me sword and spear, and how to ride war horses.”

            “Yeah? Well, if you keep looking at me like that, I’ll teach you humility,” Tane said, causing the assembled adults to break up laughing.

            Jessy just simmered.

            “Now don’t you be talking so disrespectfully to a lady,” Tane’s mother said from the door, a tiny smile threatening to steal away her stern look.

            “Oh, Aunt Mattie,” Jessy breathed dramatically.

            Tane hugged Jessy, and then turned her toward the door. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and led the way into the house. Everyone quickly filed in and took their usual place at the long oaken table. Kyle and Mattie’s family was on the north side, with Calvan and Mercia’s family on the south. The adults sat in the middle of their children, to better serve the little ones, while as the eldest children Tane and Jessy sat at the ends.

            Joseph, Tane’s younger brother by two years, sat between him and their father. Ten year old Kandy sat between her parents, while five year old Oscar sat on the other side of their mother and refused to eat a thing. Seeing his father had his hands full with Kandy, who was playing some childish word game with her cousin Sara across the table and didn’t want to eat any more than Oscar, Tane watched them wistfully. Until that moment, he never believed he’d miss such mayhem.

            “I should be the one going to Kestsax tomorrow,” Jessy declared down the table. “I’m

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