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half done. “It’s too much.”
“You should be apprenticed to a healer, Marit, not trapped here in this village,” her friend, Susa, a short, plump girl with large brown eyes and thick red hair smiled briefly. “A person with gifts like yours is rare and should be treasured.”
“My uncle has other plans for me, Susa,” Marit sighed and tried to make herself more comfortable, “that do not include training to healers.” She tried to get to her feet and the pain had her sitting back down. “I need to get to your mother, Susa.”
“Elder Horis says that we are to remain here,” Susa told her. “Your uncle and the men are preparing for attack…”
“Attack?”
The sound of voices raised in fear hit her ear. Marit forced herself to her feet and went to look out the cellar door leading outside. A band of men was riding in hard. They dismounted and started grabbing people. Susa pulled her back and found a healers kit. As Susa tended to Marit’s injuries, Marit saw the fear in her friend’s eyes. These men were here to do damage. Marit did not need urging to remain where they were then; if her normally calm friend, Susa, was frightened, then they were in trouble. She bit her lip as pain cascaded through her and went white.
“I don’t care what he said,” Susa cried as she went up the stairs and tried to open the door. It was an effort for the slight girl, but she finally got it open. “I am getting Mother for you.”
She was only gone a moment when Marit heard her scream. Marit could tell from the sounds that her friend had been taken and she got up to go to her aid. Marit fell to the ground, crying out in pain and saw the dust-covered boots of someone standing next to her a moment later. She looked up at the leathers of a traveler and her eyes continued up to see a tall, well-muscled young man with rich black hair and deep green eyes. There was something familiar about this man, her mind told her. But she could not find the information in her mind. He helped her to her feet and held her as she swayed. His dark eyes went even darker as he heard her cry out in pain.
“Someone has damaged you!” he snapped as he carried her up the stairs and signaled to someone as he left the hut. Marit found herself being held by a tall, golden-haired woman. “Assist us, lady.”
The young man and the woman helped Marit towards the town square where she saw that the villagers had been shoved into the pens that had housed the cattle. Horis was on his knees in front of an older man with thick black hair tinged silver at the temples, braided and ornamented with beads and leather. He was watching her with an expression of longing on his face and Marit wondered at it. The woman got her seated and raised her shirt slowly, frowning as Marit whimpered. Her hands moved over Marit’s side gently, taking note of the injuries. Marit could feel the pain easing slightly, and she turned her eyes on the older man, who was approaching her with a strange look in his eyes. He nodded to the woman and watched carefully.
“The man who did this to you, child,” the man hissed as he saw the whip marks exposed as the shirt shifted, “will wish we had slit his throat before his ordeal is over.”
He laid the back of his hand up to her cheek and rested it there. His eyes were filled with warmth and relief. What was happening here, Marit wondered. These people were treating her as if they knew her. But that could not be; she was of the village. She looked to Horis for some explanation and he glared at her coldly; as if this was her fault.
“I am the lord Taryn of Stormkeep,” the older man told the villagers. “We have come here to retrieve the princess Marit, daughter of the borderlands king, Marius.” He looked directly at Marit and she shook her head, puzzled. “She was left here with your village elder for protection,” he stated coldly as he looked at Horis directly, “and we find her broken and beaten. How does this come to be?”
“The girl allowed our cattle to go loose,” Horis said, glaring at the man. “Her mind wanders; she does not attend to her tasks as she should.”
“So you whipped her?” Taryn roared. “No one beats a borderlander child; especially not this one.” He nodded to his men and had them bind Horis to the pens top rail. He took the whip off of his belt as Horis’ shirt was ripped open. “You will learn the proper respect, little man.”
“No!” Marit cried as Horis’ pain struck at her mind and body. She tried to get up to make the man stop and was held back by the woman. “Please make him stop,” Marit whimpered as she fell to her knees, fresh pain coursing through her. “It hurts!”
“You must let it go, Princess,” the woman said to her softly, urgently. “Shield your mind or the pain will take you over.”
“Too weak,” Marit sobbed, the combination of her own injuries and Horis’ pain too much for her to control. “Has to stop.”
“Lord Taryn!” the woman cried as she pulled Marit into her arms. “It is proven! She is the one we seek!”
Taryn lowered the whip and turned to see Marit on her knees, pain evident in her eyes. He went down onto one knee and bowed his head, as did his entire band. Marit looked at him in confusion, wondering what was going on. They acted like she was someone special; but that could not be. They had to have confused her with some other child. She was only Marit, daughter of a deceased village elder and his wife. Horis was freed from the rail and left to collapse.
“Princess!” Taryn breathed out in wonder. He came to her and picked her up in his arms. “We have finally found you.”
Marit looked up at him, waiting for him to tell her it was all a jest. But he was serious, she saw in his expression. Overwhelmed by the pain, and the shock, she passed out. She was lifted up into the arms of Taryn’s son; the young man who had found her in the cellar, and he took her to her family hut. Susa and her mother came to help the lady as they tended Marit’s injuries.
“We have no reason to seek retribution from the entire village,” Taryn said as he watched the women go. He sat down on the chair Marit had been using and glared at Horis. “Horis Tun, you are under arrest for assaulting the princess. You will be taken to her father for judgment.” He turned to one of his men. “Tell the lady Sysha that we leave as soon as the princess is ready to travel.”
The women finished mending Marit’s wounds and gave her a sedative to allow her to sleep and recover her strength. She was lifted up into the arms of Taryn’s son and he rode away slowly, not wishing to disturb her. Marit did not wake to see Horis being placed in bonds and tied to the pommel of a saddle. He was dragged behind lord Taryn’s mount while the villagers watched in disbelief. Susa ran to one of the raiders, tugging on his long leather jerkin. The brown-haired man looked down his aquiline nose at her, intrigued.
“Please,” she begged, her eyes dancing in delight, “take me with you. I would not be parted from my friend.”
The man looked hesitant, but something about her utter lack of fear pulled him. He made a decision based on the mounting attraction he was feeling and nodded. The smile that lit her face struck at his heart and he knew he had been right; this one was his. He pulled her up before him in the saddle and they rode out of the village. Susa’s mind was dancing in delight at this change in fortunes. They stopped at the night camp the borderlanders had set up on the other side of the hill and she was taken to Marit. Taryn raised an eyebrow and the young man told him why the cute redhead was here. He nodded permission and left Susa to see to Marit’s needs.
“Imagine it, Marit; my best friend turning out to be the long-lost daughter of the borderlanders king!” Susa smiled at Marit a few hours later, as they made camp for the night. “Isn’t it wondrous?”
“It is puzzling,” Marit frowned, “and frightening, Susa.” She took the bowl of stew Susa had brought her with a nod of thanks. “It is not wondrous.”
Marit picked at the stew, but her mind was not on food. She wanted to know why she was in this situation. She needed to know what these people wanted from her. She remembered stories she had overheard among the older men, when Horis had not known she was listening. Were she and Susa in the company of slavers? Were they to be sold to warm some decadent nobles bed? But then, Marit remembered; she had been sold. What was going to happen to the villagers when that man arrived for her and she was gone?
“Think of it, Marit,” Susa continued talking, her mind locked in delight. “We shall finally see all the wonders of the road.” Susa replied. “It is so thrilling, Marit; I mean, my lady.”
“Never that, Susa,” Marit frowned at the title. “You have always been like my sister.” She looked over at their travel companions. “I shall insist that you be treated as such.”
“You would make a lady of me?” Susa giggled and held out her rough hands, indicated her simple garments. “Can you see me in silks and velvets, Marit?”
“No more than I can see myself in such,” Marit replied. She handed the bowl back to Susa. “I’m not that hungry, Susa. I need to rest.”
“Quit wearying the princess, Susa,” the woman, lady Sysha of Solliston, snapped as she came back to the cart to hear Susa chattering away. “Help Naji and the others see to the men.” Susa smiled and moved away. “That child is truly strange. How do you stand her?”
“Susa makes me smile,” Marit replied, wondering what the woman wanted now, “and has been a true and loving friend all my life. Her mind is open to the wonders of this world.”
“Would that her mouth were not as open,” Sysha muttered. She saw the frown on Marit’s face. “I meant no true offense, princess.”
“Susa would not realize you meant offense,” Marit told the woman. “I accept your apology on her behalf. Now,” Marit said once the woman had settled, “I want you to tell me why you all insist that I am a princess.”
“Tomorrow, my lady,” Sysha answered her; not liking how pale Marit was. She prepared another sedative and added it to a cup of water. “Tonight you must rest.”
Taryn and his son approached Horis, who was bound to a branch of one of the trees surrounding their camp. Horis glared at them both, refusing to be cowed. His anger only increased when Tavin struck him. How had they known to come now, he wondered. If they had waited only a few more days, the girl would have been well on her way to the Overlord. The thought of all the money he was losing only increased his anger.
“Is that the best you can do, pup?” Horis laughed as the blows continued. His eyes lit up with delight as Tavin pulled his knife. “Oh my!” he was
“You should be apprenticed to a healer, Marit, not trapped here in this village,” her friend, Susa, a short, plump girl with large brown eyes and thick red hair smiled briefly. “A person with gifts like yours is rare and should be treasured.”
“My uncle has other plans for me, Susa,” Marit sighed and tried to make herself more comfortable, “that do not include training to healers.” She tried to get to her feet and the pain had her sitting back down. “I need to get to your mother, Susa.”
“Elder Horis says that we are to remain here,” Susa told her. “Your uncle and the men are preparing for attack…”
“Attack?”
The sound of voices raised in fear hit her ear. Marit forced herself to her feet and went to look out the cellar door leading outside. A band of men was riding in hard. They dismounted and started grabbing people. Susa pulled her back and found a healers kit. As Susa tended to Marit’s injuries, Marit saw the fear in her friend’s eyes. These men were here to do damage. Marit did not need urging to remain where they were then; if her normally calm friend, Susa, was frightened, then they were in trouble. She bit her lip as pain cascaded through her and went white.
“I don’t care what he said,” Susa cried as she went up the stairs and tried to open the door. It was an effort for the slight girl, but she finally got it open. “I am getting Mother for you.”
She was only gone a moment when Marit heard her scream. Marit could tell from the sounds that her friend had been taken and she got up to go to her aid. Marit fell to the ground, crying out in pain and saw the dust-covered boots of someone standing next to her a moment later. She looked up at the leathers of a traveler and her eyes continued up to see a tall, well-muscled young man with rich black hair and deep green eyes. There was something familiar about this man, her mind told her. But she could not find the information in her mind. He helped her to her feet and held her as she swayed. His dark eyes went even darker as he heard her cry out in pain.
“Someone has damaged you!” he snapped as he carried her up the stairs and signaled to someone as he left the hut. Marit found herself being held by a tall, golden-haired woman. “Assist us, lady.”
The young man and the woman helped Marit towards the town square where she saw that the villagers had been shoved into the pens that had housed the cattle. Horis was on his knees in front of an older man with thick black hair tinged silver at the temples, braided and ornamented with beads and leather. He was watching her with an expression of longing on his face and Marit wondered at it. The woman got her seated and raised her shirt slowly, frowning as Marit whimpered. Her hands moved over Marit’s side gently, taking note of the injuries. Marit could feel the pain easing slightly, and she turned her eyes on the older man, who was approaching her with a strange look in his eyes. He nodded to the woman and watched carefully.
“The man who did this to you, child,” the man hissed as he saw the whip marks exposed as the shirt shifted, “will wish we had slit his throat before his ordeal is over.”
He laid the back of his hand up to her cheek and rested it there. His eyes were filled with warmth and relief. What was happening here, Marit wondered. These people were treating her as if they knew her. But that could not be; she was of the village. She looked to Horis for some explanation and he glared at her coldly; as if this was her fault.
“I am the lord Taryn of Stormkeep,” the older man told the villagers. “We have come here to retrieve the princess Marit, daughter of the borderlands king, Marius.” He looked directly at Marit and she shook her head, puzzled. “She was left here with your village elder for protection,” he stated coldly as he looked at Horis directly, “and we find her broken and beaten. How does this come to be?”
“The girl allowed our cattle to go loose,” Horis said, glaring at the man. “Her mind wanders; she does not attend to her tasks as she should.”
“So you whipped her?” Taryn roared. “No one beats a borderlander child; especially not this one.” He nodded to his men and had them bind Horis to the pens top rail. He took the whip off of his belt as Horis’ shirt was ripped open. “You will learn the proper respect, little man.”
“No!” Marit cried as Horis’ pain struck at her mind and body. She tried to get up to make the man stop and was held back by the woman. “Please make him stop,” Marit whimpered as she fell to her knees, fresh pain coursing through her. “It hurts!”
“You must let it go, Princess,” the woman said to her softly, urgently. “Shield your mind or the pain will take you over.”
“Too weak,” Marit sobbed, the combination of her own injuries and Horis’ pain too much for her to control. “Has to stop.”
“Lord Taryn!” the woman cried as she pulled Marit into her arms. “It is proven! She is the one we seek!”
Taryn lowered the whip and turned to see Marit on her knees, pain evident in her eyes. He went down onto one knee and bowed his head, as did his entire band. Marit looked at him in confusion, wondering what was going on. They acted like she was someone special; but that could not be. They had to have confused her with some other child. She was only Marit, daughter of a deceased village elder and his wife. Horis was freed from the rail and left to collapse.
“Princess!” Taryn breathed out in wonder. He came to her and picked her up in his arms. “We have finally found you.”
Marit looked up at him, waiting for him to tell her it was all a jest. But he was serious, she saw in his expression. Overwhelmed by the pain, and the shock, she passed out. She was lifted up into the arms of Taryn’s son; the young man who had found her in the cellar, and he took her to her family hut. Susa and her mother came to help the lady as they tended Marit’s injuries.
“We have no reason to seek retribution from the entire village,” Taryn said as he watched the women go. He sat down on the chair Marit had been using and glared at Horis. “Horis Tun, you are under arrest for assaulting the princess. You will be taken to her father for judgment.” He turned to one of his men. “Tell the lady Sysha that we leave as soon as the princess is ready to travel.”
The women finished mending Marit’s wounds and gave her a sedative to allow her to sleep and recover her strength. She was lifted up into the arms of Taryn’s son and he rode away slowly, not wishing to disturb her. Marit did not wake to see Horis being placed in bonds and tied to the pommel of a saddle. He was dragged behind lord Taryn’s mount while the villagers watched in disbelief. Susa ran to one of the raiders, tugging on his long leather jerkin. The brown-haired man looked down his aquiline nose at her, intrigued.
“Please,” she begged, her eyes dancing in delight, “take me with you. I would not be parted from my friend.”
The man looked hesitant, but something about her utter lack of fear pulled him. He made a decision based on the mounting attraction he was feeling and nodded. The smile that lit her face struck at his heart and he knew he had been right; this one was his. He pulled her up before him in the saddle and they rode out of the village. Susa’s mind was dancing in delight at this change in fortunes. They stopped at the night camp the borderlanders had set up on the other side of the hill and she was taken to Marit. Taryn raised an eyebrow and the young man told him why the cute redhead was here. He nodded permission and left Susa to see to Marit’s needs.
“Imagine it, Marit; my best friend turning out to be the long-lost daughter of the borderlanders king!” Susa smiled at Marit a few hours later, as they made camp for the night. “Isn’t it wondrous?”
“It is puzzling,” Marit frowned, “and frightening, Susa.” She took the bowl of stew Susa had brought her with a nod of thanks. “It is not wondrous.”
Marit picked at the stew, but her mind was not on food. She wanted to know why she was in this situation. She needed to know what these people wanted from her. She remembered stories she had overheard among the older men, when Horis had not known she was listening. Were she and Susa in the company of slavers? Were they to be sold to warm some decadent nobles bed? But then, Marit remembered; she had been sold. What was going to happen to the villagers when that man arrived for her and she was gone?
“Think of it, Marit,” Susa continued talking, her mind locked in delight. “We shall finally see all the wonders of the road.” Susa replied. “It is so thrilling, Marit; I mean, my lady.”
“Never that, Susa,” Marit frowned at the title. “You have always been like my sister.” She looked over at their travel companions. “I shall insist that you be treated as such.”
“You would make a lady of me?” Susa giggled and held out her rough hands, indicated her simple garments. “Can you see me in silks and velvets, Marit?”
“No more than I can see myself in such,” Marit replied. She handed the bowl back to Susa. “I’m not that hungry, Susa. I need to rest.”
“Quit wearying the princess, Susa,” the woman, lady Sysha of Solliston, snapped as she came back to the cart to hear Susa chattering away. “Help Naji and the others see to the men.” Susa smiled and moved away. “That child is truly strange. How do you stand her?”
“Susa makes me smile,” Marit replied, wondering what the woman wanted now, “and has been a true and loving friend all my life. Her mind is open to the wonders of this world.”
“Would that her mouth were not as open,” Sysha muttered. She saw the frown on Marit’s face. “I meant no true offense, princess.”
“Susa would not realize you meant offense,” Marit told the woman. “I accept your apology on her behalf. Now,” Marit said once the woman had settled, “I want you to tell me why you all insist that I am a princess.”
“Tomorrow, my lady,” Sysha answered her; not liking how pale Marit was. She prepared another sedative and added it to a cup of water. “Tonight you must rest.”
Taryn and his son approached Horis, who was bound to a branch of one of the trees surrounding their camp. Horis glared at them both, refusing to be cowed. His anger only increased when Tavin struck him. How had they known to come now, he wondered. If they had waited only a few more days, the girl would have been well on her way to the Overlord. The thought of all the money he was losing only increased his anger.
“Is that the best you can do, pup?” Horis laughed as the blows continued. His eyes lit up with delight as Tavin pulled his knife. “Oh my!” he was
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