He suddenly realized that he didn't have a lot of questions after all. He felt on the spot just then. He looked into his tea feeling a little embarrassed. That had happened before around her, though. Sometimes she knew things that were just a little too insightful for his comfort. He took a sip of the tea, which was very tasty as her teas always were.

"So, any idea how bad things are going to get with the Elar?" he asked abruptly.

"Worse than most expect," she said. He looked up and she looked down into her own tea before continuing. "A dark time is coming, Ullden. But just when it seems that things are as bad as they can get, it will end abruptly and the Elar might will collapse like a wave that has run too far ashore."

"So what have you seen?" he asked, "How far will they get?"

"No army can stop them. There is no fortress they cannot overtake. And yet somehow there is a glimmer of hope. A child will defeat the source of their power. That is why you are here."

"No," he countered. "I'm here because I couldn't find Wellar and thought you might know something."

She smiled a very patronizing smile. She had used that smile before. Fortunately she had never quite been smug about it. But it meant she had won an argument he hadn't even known had started. He sighed, hating feeling not in control of his own life.

"So," he said with a sigh, "are you going to just tell me what it is you've seen about me in your readings? Or do I have to wait and try and decipher cryptic messages like you used to give some people to avoid giving them bad news?"

"It's not just readings anymore, actually," she told him. "I picked up one of those crystal spheres after I started having some extraordinarily vivid dreams come true. I spend some time with it each day and it seems to have made it so I can sleep nights again at least." She paused a moment and chuckled. "I've quite literally seen visions of you in it, Ullden. Although, I'd like to do a reading with the cards with you before I tell you more. I'd also like to take a look at that cup you're drinking from after you've finished the tea in it."

He nodded and sighed at her at the same time. He'd found out in the past that once Vera had set her mind to do a reading on someone they were hard pressed to get out of it. It didn't seem to matter whether they believed in her abilities or not, she still seemed to get accurate readings off the people. If he didn't agree now, she'd find some way to get him to touch the cards so she could do the reading anyway. He learned it was easier just to let her do it. It wasn't as if she was asking him for blood or anything.

"Wonderful. I'll be right back," she said. She quickly refilled their teacups before taking the tray off with her. When she came back she had a velvet-lined board she placed over the table instead, and a deck of elaborately painted cards. He recognized the cards themselves. She'd had them for years. He remembered her saying she'd gotten them from a gypsy artist she'd known. Apparently the man had painstakingly hand-painted them especially for her. They were well-used and getting worn at the corners, but had been painted with durable enough paints that the images were still visible. He suspected, however, that she must have had someone touch them up now and again to keep them that way.

She shuffled the deck a few times and then set the deck on the board in front of where he sat. He reached over and placed his hand on the deck for a moment, doing his best not to look overly resigned about it, before sitting back a bit to watch while he sipped his tea. The chair did creak a bit when he sat back and he winced and tried to be careful again. She picked up the deck again and began laying them out in some elaborate configuration of rows with cards connecting them in specific places.

"Hmm, The Maiden," she said, pointing to a card depicting a young girl dancing in a field with six oversized yellow flowers. "That's not surprising. And see, here's the Celebration card. She's coming here to a party the Duke's throwing. That's where you'll meet her."

"Is that the child you mentioned earlier? The one that saves everyone?"

"Yes," she said, drawing out the word in a strange crooning fashion. "There is also the journey card with the Six of Swords. You will be going somewhere. It will be a long journey with many hardships. Six of them in particular, I'd say."

"There is also the death card. One of you will not return from this journey. There is the nine of trumpets--you will succeed." She paused, looking over the rest of the cards. She studied them, now and then letting out a hurm.

"There is the Two of Rings--The Eyes card. Someone will be watching you, or perhaps watching out for you, or perhaps someone watching trying to stop you. Some of this is unclear." There was a whole branch of the pattern she had said nothing about. He considered asking her about it, but he knew she didn't like it when people did that. He held back for the moment. "Some of this is inconclusive," she said, gathering up the cards in apparent frustration. "Too much of it makes no sense. Perhaps later a meaning will be clear, but not today."

"You said you'd had visions as well?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, stacking the cards neatly together and shuffling them a few times before setting them aside. "I saw you coming here very clearly. There is also a priest, a Father... Rolin. I only know his name because I saw the Duke's messenger speaking to him before the Duke ever sent the man. I got his name from the messenger when he returned. And certain cards keep showing up in every reading I do about the war. Some of it I just can't make sense of yet. I've taken notes though. When the time comes for you to leave, I'll give you the notebook. Perhaps some of the things I've written down will make sense to you as you go."

She leaned forward in her chair and looked at Ullden intently.

"Do you know how I've always maintained that what I do is a gift, granted by the Gods?"

"Yes," he nodded. "I seem to recall that's provoked some interesting arguments with more than one priest in the past."

"After Mekin died, I lost my touch for a while, Ullden. I couldn't get accurate readings on anything anymore. I was consumed by grief and it clouded everything."

"That's to be expected, Vera," he leaned forward and touched her arm, ignoring the protest of the chair. "I know you two loved one another very much-"

"It's how they came back that surprised me. The dreams began first. I saw the Duke. I saw myself leaving with him. The next day I did a reading and all manner of strange things turned up and everything was much stronger. I was accurate before, but now I'm getting more detail than ever. It's as if..." She trailed off, looking both excited and concerned at the same time. "Sometimes I feel as if I'm being led a little, made to see things so that I don't miss them. But I can feel that it's important. If you don't go on this journey, Ullden, we'll lose the war. I'm sure of it. I think you're supposed to protect this child, this girl. To make sure she does whatever it is she's supposed to do. I've never felt so sure of anything in my life."

She sat back in her chair again and let out a long sigh.

"I don't suppose you have any guess as to what it is she's supposed to do?" he asked, sinking into his chair a little. He knew she had committed him to going gods knew where on some apparently desperate quest. He sighed.

"No, but she won't do it alone. I'm pretty sure that she'll need to be taken to the priest. He won't know that she has anything to do with it. In fact, I don't think he knows what's going on at all."

"Wonderful," he commented wryly. "Let me guess, I can't tell him anything about it, right?"

"Actually, I think you should tell him about all of it. I think if anyone is going to make sense of what I've seen, it would be him."

"Oh, well that's a little better then. And how far away is this priest?"

"About a week from here," she replied. "I've already made some arrangements with local merchants to have the provisions readied."

"So," he asked a little reluctantly, "how long until the girl gets here?"

The Duke's annual ball is tomorrow night," she said with a smile that worried him. "She arrived this morning."

Chapter 9 - Social Circles

However, at mother's insistance, one of father's hired men stood in on the sessions and reported back to her parents. Nordithet was angry. Not at Jetha, thankfully, but at her parents. The only good that seemed to have come of the whole mess was that he had finally started teaching her some offensive spells. She'd happened to see the list of spells he had intended to teach her first - simple flashes of light to blind a person with and other, similar ones - but he'd skipped most of those and gone right in for the serious stuff. She'd thrown her first fireball only the day before. Mother hadn't been pleased about that either. Jetha was sure that mother had had enough of her "wizard nonsense" and was looking for a husband for her now. It hadn't helped when the rumor about Duke Arlington's daughter had been confirmed. While she wasn't marrying Duke Lagenz's son, who's coming of age party they would attend tomorrow night, she was engaged. Mother would have to find some other girl for Karic. Since it wasn't exactly Karic's fault, Jetha found herself as the sole target of mother's unhappiness.

"Quit fidgeting Jetha, or we'll never be ready in time for dinner," mother complained. "While we won't be at the table with the Dukes that are here, we will be in plain view of them. We must never look less than our best."

"Yes mother," Jetha said, in her meekest voice possible. She returned to the trick she'd been trying before - not breathing at all - and counted how long she could actually manage to hold her breath without her face starting to turn red or look strange. It helped that she was in front of a mirror and could see herself. She knew there was a spell to make it so one didn't have to breathe for a duration. She wondered if Nordithet would think this was an "appropriate application" for it or not. Considering his current opinion of mother, he probably wouldn't mind much. Since he'd joined them for this excursion from the estate, she thought she might ask him later if she had the chance. She'd been surprised they'd brought him along, but he explained that having a proper wizard on the payroll was enough of a status symbol that even mother would want to flaunt it. She agreed with his opinion that it was highly ironic.

Eventually they finished dressing her and fussing with her hair. Mother proclaimed it "as good as it's going to get," and they proceeded out to find her father and brothers. All were dressed in their finer clothes. They all had their best outfits set aside for the ball tomorrow, of course.

Nordithet looked the most impressive of the bunch. He seemed taller than normal. He was dressed in fancy black robes with gold and silver symbols embroidered along it. Most of them she recognized. One row of them marked areas of magic he had mastered, with gold and silver noting a degree or accomplishment for each. There were more silver than gold, but it proclaimed him a perfectly competent wizard. Nordithet stood with his staff, a gently spiraled shaft of wood the color of old bleached bone.

Her younger brother, Oddan, looked uncomfortable and fidgeted with his belt where his sword would tie on. Karic looked less uncomfortable, but still looked nervous. Father was saying something to him quietly.

"Well, we should walk slowly to the hall," Mother decided aloud. "We don't want to be the first, nor the last, to arrive." Father nodded and offered Mother his arm. She took it and they led the rest in procession. Karic walked ahead of Oddan, and Nordithet walked next to Jetha at the end. None of the servants came with, of course.

It turned out that they were neither the first, nor the last, to arrive in the dining hall. Of course they would not have been the last unless they had been late. It was customary for the host to arrive on time precisely, which made an unspoken rule that the guests arrived in the hour of time before that point. Usually there was servants who weaved their way through the gathered guests, carrying small trays of appetizers, as people mingled and caught up with each other before the arrival of the host was announced. Tonight was no different.

The dining hall was huge, with the ceiling rising up three stories. Long, thick chains hung down, supporting large chandeliers of what appeared to be oil lanterns instead of the usual candles. Sconces on the walls, and candles on the tables provided additional lighting. There was also two large fireplaces nearest the head table, where Duke Lagenz and his family would sit with whomever they had chosen to dine with them that evening.

Jetha saw many people she recognized from other functions her mother had insisted the family attend, and many new faces as well. Although the room was bigger than most she'd seen, it still felt crowded with so many people moving about the tables, talking to each other. She had been given strict instructions to stay near her mother until after dinner, so she could only spare quick waves for the friends of hers she saw before mother called her attention back to whomever she was being introduced to or supposed to remember from a previous party. Jetha nodded and smiled and said very little, not wanting to risk saying anything that mother might disapprove of just then. With a growing pit in her stomach, she realized that mother was seeking out the elligible bachelors in the room. Jetha hadn't even gotten her dance card for the ball yet and it was already filling up. By the time the trumpets sounded, to announce the arrival of Duke Lagenz, she realized she wasn't hungry anymore at all.

The duke and his wife lead the parade of people to the head table. Lagenz and his wife sat in the center. Lady Lagenz was younger looking than she expected. She made herself notice all the younger men at the table, knowing that her mother would be checking them out.

And then her heart sank. One of the figures from her vision--the warrior--was sitting at the head table, just four chairs away from the Duke. The lady sitting next to him turned and looked directly at her. The look on her face was one of recognition. Jetha felt small and cold and had to look down. She just couldn't keep that gaze. Even after breaking it off it felt as though the woman was looking through her.

"Mr. Nordithet," she whispered, "one of the men from my vision is at the head table. There's a woman next to him staring at me." Nordithet was sitting next to her, and she felt his hand touch her arm briefly. It was just enough of a reminder that he was there. She felt better. When she looked up, the lady across the room was looking somewhere else.

"That's the Duke's Seer," Nordithet explained quietly. "Do not let her intimidate you. She may be able to see a great many things, but you are a wizard, you can do a great many things, and can also see. You have nothing to fear from her. Indeed, if she is sitting with someone from your vision, perhaps she has had some of her own. It would be arrogant to presume you are the only one who has been given some insight into whatever is happening. You were shown those people for a reason. After dinner we should talk to her and find out what she knows."

She looked over at them once again to find the warrior watching her this time. He had a slight frown on his face, as if he was sizing her up and she wasn't meeting whatever criteria he expected of her. She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked away again, focusing directly on the salad that had been placed in front of her. She somehow managed to start picking at it, eating the occasional bite here and there to keep her mother from thinking she was being rude by not eating. She wasn't hungry at all. She was terrified.

Jetha found herself startled by the fact that her mother was saying something to her and she'd missed it entirely. She hastily swallowed the bite of food she'd been working on and apologized.

"I'm sorry mother, what was that?" she asked. "I was trying to determine which herbs were used in the dressing for the salad. It's a delightful combination," she lied, trying to come up with something mother would approve of as an excuse. Mother raised an eyebrow, which suggested she hadn't believed Jetha, but she said nothing about it.

"I was wondering what you would think if we were to invite Sir Estelan and his family to come and visit us next month?" Mother smiled and indicated the family sitting across from them. Jetha noticed that there was a young man who seemed only a couple years older than she, who smiled politely at her. She gave him a similar smile, recognizing that he had little interest in her and trying to indicate the same.

"I think that would be wonderful, mother," she said. "Will you come?" She turned and looked at the man who was about father's age, who she assumed must be Sir Estelan.

"That depends entirely on the war, young lady," he said with a smile. "Gods willing, the progress of the Elar will slow and we can all take time to relax with friends."

"Is it really that bad?" she blurted out before remembering that mother would disapprove. War was not one of the topics that proper ladies discussed at the dinner table. She felt her mother stiffen next to her and knew she was in for a reprimand for sure before she'd be allowed to go to bed that night.

"I'm afraid it is," Sir Estelan said, not having seemed to notice that it was her who had asked. "The Elar are moving faster than anyone could have predicted. If it continues in this manner, it is only a matter of months before they will reach these lands."

"Please, Sir Estelan, such talk at dinner!" Mother protested, but Sir Estelan waved a hand to prevent her from saying more.

"We must all prepare ourselves, m'lady. We would be fools not to. I arrived yesterday and spoke to some of the refugees who've come here. It is not a pretty tale they have to tell. Many such as yourself might wish to consider packing their children up and heading away from the war, leaving the rest of us to fight."

"If you're suggesting I leave my home - " mother said, sounding both alarmed and angry.

"He is dear," father interrupted her quietly. "And from what I've already heard, his suggestion is not without merit. We will discuss it further later."

Jetha saw Sir Estelan and father nod at one another across the table while mother fumed quietly. Jetha suspected that mother was more afraid than angry, however. Father would not suggest they leave home unless it was truely necessary. Jetha found herself suddenly unable to even pick at the salad anymore. The knot in her stomach had grown unbearable. She was afraid if she tried to eat anything she'd throw up. Especially when she realized that Father wouldn't go with them if they left. He'd stay behind to try and fight off the Elar. Her brother Karic would probably stay too, while Oddan would be deemed too young and sent away with Jetha and her Mother. She noticed that mother didn't eat any more salad either, but just stirred it around over and over again with her fork until the next course was brought. Jetha realized that she and mother were probably thinking the same thoughts just then.

Jetha felt horribly trapped. The talk of war had made her entire family uncomfortable, and she was still being watched by the warrior and the seer. It was the seer's gaze that was the most uncomfortable. She felt as though she'd come to dinner without her clothes on and that so far only the seer had noticed. Part of her kept waiting for more people to start staring at her. She knew there was no rational reason to feel that way, but she felt it nonetheless.

The next course was portions of some roast fowl glazed in candied honey. As it came out, so did a group of jugglers who wandered around the room.

"Watch those jugglers some while you eat," Nordithet suggested to her. "Wizards must juggle many things at once, as most people must. A lord must consider all the consequences of decisions, for both himself and his people, and act accordingly. Knights might consider different strategies at once, and be ready to change tactics completely at any moment. Even a farmer must juggle his crops and his animals. Parents must juggle the needs of the household with the raising and education of children. Everyone juggles, Jetha, yet it is not every day that we see this particularly colorful form."

Even people on the other side of the table turned to watch the juggler. Nordithet's words had been heard by all at their table, and she was sure he intended it that way. The mood lightened, and it wasn't long before she heard Oddan's laugh.

She stole a moment to observe her family. Mother put her hand on Father's, and the two exchanged glances that held almost nothing of the tension of just moments ago.

She turned back and Nordithet smiled a brief sly smile. She grinned back at him, understanding his unspoken message that part of being a wizard was being the subtle diplomat. He had mentioned that point repeatedly in the past.

She took a bite of the glazed fowl. It was dark meat soaked in something before it was cooked. There was a very pleasant spicy undertone under the sweetness of the candied honey. It was actually very tasty, and she found herself genuinely enjoying it.

There were side dishes offered to her as well. First there was some small carrots that seemed to have been cooked in the same honey as the fowl. A little while later, someone came by and offered her some sort of stuffing as well, which had bits of wild rice and some of the spices the fowl had been cooked in, giving it a similar undertone. She had to admit that it was one of the nicest meals she'd had. Their family's own cook was not quite as adept at bringing the flavors together as this Duke's was. She realized that even the salad dressing she'd commented on earlier had had some simlar taste to it, as if preparing the diners for the main course. She couldn't remember the appetizers as she'd hardly eaten any, but she didn't doubt the possiblity that they too had been complimentary to the rest of the meal.

The jugglers were replaced by a different set of musicians than the ones who'd been playing quiet music before the meal had begun. These played livelier music and were a much larger group with more instruments. Some of the instruments were items that Jetha hadn't seen before, and made the music sound slightly different. Some songs were had lyrics, which were sung by a woman. Others were danced to by a group of dancers who weaved their way amongst the tables from time to time when they weren't performing in the area of space just in front of the head table. Jetha noticed that the warrior and seer had finally turned their attention to the entertainment, although she noticed that the warrior would occasionally glance her way. She accidentally met eyes with him on a couple of occasions and always found herself looking quickly away. She wondered what it was he knew of her.

The conversation at the table shifted over to the usual small talk and gossip. Sir Estelan's wife and mother were chatting about the various engagements, marriages, and births that had occurred over the last few months, while father and Sir Estelan were discussing horses. Her brother Oddan looked bored when the dancers weren't dancing, and Karic was talking to some other young man about his age that sat further down the table. She noticed that Nordithet seemed to be alternately engrossed in either the dancers or the talk on horses, although he offered no input to the conversation. She tried to pretend to be interested in the conversation mother was having, since she knew that's where mother would want her attention. After a while, she noticed Sir Estelan's son watching her, looking amused. She met his gaze and tried to look inquisitive instead of frowning at him.

"Yes?" she asked, attempting one of her mother's questioning looks. She felt ridiculous doing it.

"I've heard you are training to be a wizard," he said, smiling. "And, by the way, although I'm sure my mother will get to it later, my name is Narren." He rolled his eyes in the direction of his mother, giving her the impression he was about as interested in their conversation as she really was.

"I'm Jetha," she told him. "And yes, I've been training with Mr. Nordithet here." She gestured towards her tutor with her fork before eating the carrot on it.

"That must be fascinating study," he said, nodding. "I'm better with animals, myself. I guess I get it from my father."

"And what will you be doing with animals, then?" she asked, half out of politeness and half out of curiosity.

"Breeding and training horses," he said, looking proud about it. She heard a sigh out of Mother, who must have been expecting something more glorious.

"Horses are wonderful animals," Nordithet commented. "What is a knight without one? Horses allow the farmer to increase his yield, to plow his fields in less time, and help him bring his crop to market for others to enjoy. If there were no horses, would silks and exotic spices be available away from the port cities? Ships may be considered the commercial backbone of the civilization in the larger view, but horses are the reason there is any luxury to be found inland."

Her mother made a thoughtful "hmm" sound at that, and Nordithet smiled. Jetha saw more in the smile than she suspected anyone else did. She supposed that anything he could do that made him look better in Mother's eyes felt like a small victory to him.

"I like horses, too," Jetha added. It was true, and although she wasn't interested in an arranged marriage with the boy, he did live nearby and she could use another friend of her own.

The main doors burst open and a tall and regal looking wizard entered. His robes were more ornate than the other wizards she'd seen at tables. There were many symbols on his robes, all in gold. He carried a staff with a small blue flame at the top in place of any kind of crystal. The flame seemed only marginally affected by the wind of moving it.

The wizard walked quickly and directly to the main table. There was no one sitting opposite the duke, and the wizard walked to directly across the table from him. When he stopped, he set his staff down and it ringed on the stone floor. What little conversation hadn't been interrupted by his entrance stopped abruptly.

For a moment, it seemed as if the entire room of people were holding their breath, waiting to see what the wizard would say. The wizard turned for a moment and his gaze swept across the sea of people in the dining hall, as if taking them all in. Then he turned, leaned in across the table, and spoke directly to the Duke in a hushed voice. No one at Jetha's table seemed able to hear, although she saw many who leaned forward as if it would help them to be able. Jetha noticed Nordithet frown at the other wizard. She knew that Nordithet was not fond of other wizards who made such extravagent displays of themselves.

It was not a long conversation between the Duke and the wizard, before the wizard straightened up, nodded at the Duke and strode out of the room as deliberately as he had entered. The doors closed solidly behind him with a thunking noise that echoed across the room. It was another couple of moments before the talking and clatter of forks on plates resumed. There was yet another couple of moments before the music resumed as well, with a nod from the Duke.

Now, around her, Jetha heard voices both wondering and speculating on what the wizard had wanted. Most suspected it involved news of the war. No one at her table seemed entirely sure who the wizard was. Some suggested he might be employed by another nearby duke, as it was known that Lagenz did not maintain a wizard, but had his seer instead. Others wondered if he might have travelled here specifically to deliver information from some wizard's guild or other. Many questioned Nordithet on the meanings of the elaborate robes and symbols upon them, but Nordithet merely raised a hand and said he hadn't been close enough to the man to make any sure judgements on who the wizard had been. Nordithet suggested that someone would probably find out the truth eventually and then everyone would know.

The remainder of the dinner seemed to fly by with everyone speculating, however, and it didn't seem long before Jetha found herself eating dessert. It was a light cake with some sort of sweet, fluffy cream and berries on top of it. She thought it was very good, but knew better than to finish all of it, or mother would chide her for it later. A lady never finished all of her dessert. Jetha had yet to entirely understand why that was, considering she always thought that was the best part of the meal. Nonetheless, she set the plate aside with a few bites still remaining, following her mother's example.

Only a short while after dessert was finished the duke stood up with a goblet in his hand.

"I want to thank you all for coming. I am sure that everyone will enjoy themselves at the ball tomorrow. There will be music and dancing and a variety of entertainments to be had. For tonight, however, there are things I must attend to. Good night."

He finished whatever he was drinking and set the goblet down heavily before striding around the table and heading towards the door. A confused murmur came up among the guests. Jetha noticed the seer hurry after the duke. The warrior man followed, but without any hurry.

"What do you think that was about?" Father asked quietly.

"I don't know," Mother replied. "Most odd."

The rest of the duke's table made their way out, and the guests started shortly after that. She found herself a little behind her family, with Nordithet trailing back as well and walking beside her.

"You're feeling a little nervous about the ball, aren't you?" he asked her.

"Kind of," she said. "It'll be more fancy than anything I've been to before, probably, and Mother will be watching everything I do for any little mistake."

"Try not to worry about her. Be true to yourself and everything will work itself out the way it's supposed to. For tonight we'll work on teaching you some more. That should help keep you distracted," he said and chuckled softly.

"What about the seer?" she asked quietly. "Don't we still need to find out what she and that warrior want?"

"They seemed to be busy for the moment," he replied. "I have a feeling they will seek us out once they have attended to whatever matters have come up. I believe she understands that you are under my tutelage. All the more reason for you to spend your time with me this evening."

"Yes, Mr. Nordithet," she replied. She honestly felt relieved that she would be with him, however, instead of risking meeting the seer and warrior on her own. She pretended not to see the waving of some of her friends, who she expected wanted to get together for the rest of the evening and swap stories. While she enjoyed spending time with them, she had too much worrying her just then. She also didn't want the embarrassment of having the seer or warrior seek her out while she was with them. Jetha wasn't sure the other girls would understand, as none of them were training to be wizards like she was. One of the girls, Lyselle, approached her directly by calling her name and coming up to her.

"Jetha! It's been so long! We simply must catch up tonight!" the girl said excitedly.

"I'm sorry, Lyselle, I can't," she said with honest regret in her voice. She wished things were simple enough that she could just spend the evening with them.

"Why ever not?" Lyselle asked, not understanding.

"Jetha has reached a level of wizardry where she must apply more focus to her studies," Nordithet said, turning to look at the girl. Jetha noticed he was using one of his more stern and authoritative expressions and Lyselle looked like she might faint when she saw it directed at her.

"Perhaps she will have time tomorrow evening, after the ball," he continued. "But tonight I require her diligence in her schooling. Come, Jetha. We have much work to do."

"Yes, Mr. Nordithet," Jetha said, giving the wide-eyed Lyselle an apologetic shrug. "Maybe tomorrow, Lyselle. Tell everyone I say hello!" She gave the girl a quick hug before following quickly after Nordithet, who'd continued down the hall without her in his usual long stride.

It didn't take them long to reach the quarters he'd been assigned, down the hall from the family's suite. He had a small study adjacent to a bedroom, and he gestured to the one of the chairs while he retrieved a couple of bags and put them on the desk. He opened them and laid out packets, bags, and glass vials wrapped in velvet. She recognized most of the items as components for spells she knew. He also pulled out a couple of leatherbound books. He went back into the bedroom briefly with the empty bags and returned again with a couple of small cages, each holding a rat inside.

"I have a few spells I wish you to learn tonight," he told her. "Each of them you will prepare in advance for casting later on. We will use these rats to help us indicate if you have performed them successfully or not."

She spent a long evening of study. They worked on starting putting out fire. They worked on the fireball spell he'd shown her, and he reminded her it was a spell of last resort, to be used when nothing else would work.

He also showed her ways to avoid trouble. He showed her how to make a cloud of choking gas to incapacitate a small group of people trying to attack her. There was also a concealment spell. It wasn't the mystical invisibility that she'd always heard that wizards could do--he had never confirmed or denied it, of course--but a spell that would help keep people from noticing her as long as she didn't attract attention to herself.

Finally there was a sleep spell. It was one of the ones that was tested on a rat. With it she could put one person right to sleep. By the end of the evening he'd shown her as much as he had for most of the previous week. When she asked about it he smiled.

"Perhaps I've been doing some things more slowly than necessary. Trouble is coming along with news of the Elar. I want you as ready as I can make you. Now get some rest for tomorrow."

He used the sleep spell on her before she could get in a word. She woke in the morning, lying on her bed, feeling rather refreshed. She went to the kitchen and found Nordithet and Father talking over plates of eggs. They stopped their conversation when she joined them.

"I am very happy with her progress," Nordithet said, sounding as though he was concluding the prior discussion.

"Did I miss anything interesting?" she asked.

"Nothing you need worry yourself with today dear," Father answered. "Although tonight's ball is foremost on your mother's mind. But it isn't until this evening. You should go see some of your friends. Just be sure to be back by mid afternoon. I'll make sure your mother understands that there will still be plenty of time to get you ready," he said, winking. She thanked him, ate quickly, and ducked out.

Chapter 10 - Travel

This particular wagon didn't belong to a farmer, however, but a caravan of gypsies. From what she'd heard the night before when she'd stolen into it, they were merchants, performers, handymen and a tinkerer. She had a feeling that some of them served multiple roles, as there didn't seem to be enough of them otherwise. She hadn't been brave enough to steal out and watch, but there had been a short performance of music and a small play for the gathered travellers. It had been an easy distraction to use in order to climb into a wagon that was filled with fabrics and bags of flour. She had nestled in amongst the fabrics and fallen asleep easily. The bouncing that had woken her suggested that the wagon was moving, but at least the fabrics had kept her leg from jarring again.

The leg itself was getting worse. She didn't know what to do about it since she didn't have any money. She had even tried prying some of the gems off of the scepter she'd stolen, but it had turned red-hot in her hands and none of the gems had even started to budge. She kept telling herself she ought to get rid of the thing but knew she couldn't pawn it. Not knowing what else to do with it, somehow it always ended up making its way back into her pack. She couldn't explain it, but she just couldn't let herself leave the thing behind, no matter how many times she had envisioned herself burying it in the dirt before getting into the next wagon. She was starting to get a fever lately, so she blamed it on that. She'd resolved herself to get rid of it once she was over whatever illness had managed to catch her. She could tell her mind was getting a bit groggy and foggy as a result, and she just focused on getting further away from the Elar and staying hidden.

Food had been the other major issue. When she'd been walking, she'd stolen things from farmers' fields and gardens when she could. Her leg had hurt so badly, however, that the stick hadn't been enough to keep her going. Eventually, she'd sought out more wagons, knowing she wouldn't make it any further on foot. While she smelled foods cooking every night, the best she'd been able to scrounge had been dry grains from within the wagons, or food that had been left for the horses or dogs. If the dogs were around, however, she couldn't get to that either. It seemed they always smelled her and began barking whenever she got close. The rumble in her stomach seemed so loud to her sometimes that she wondered why the people driving the wagons didn't hear it too. Some nights she'd just eaten whatever grain or grass she could get her hands on, just to try and fill the aching void inside her. She'd never longed for bread or meat so much in her life.

It wasn't very long before the wagon stopped. For a while all was quiet. She considered crawling to peek out and see what was going on. She even tried, but it took too much energy to move without hurting, so she gave up and resigned herself to listening.

Eventually she heard the pounding sounds she had previously decided were metal tent stakes. Then that ended and it got quiet again. That was the point where it started getting dark. The wagon she was in was covered in canvas stretched over tall wooden arches. Over a little time it got fairly dark on one side, but the other side was lit by flickering light that she reasoned could only be a campfire.

She heard the crackling of the fire. It sounded about as loud as her stomach gurgling and rumbling. She could smell the wood smoke, and heard the clanging and clattering of cooking.

She remembered the smell of fresh bread that Master Josson baked at his corner shop. She remembered the odd smell of fish being brought in to market. She remembered the smoked smell of meat hanging out in the smokehouses behind the old butcher's house. All of it had been things she'd snatched while it wasn't being watched, and she thought she smelled all of it being cooked just outside.

She heard the sound of music somewhere else in the camp. It sounded inviting, welcoming, and she had to remind herself that she'd been stowing away among them, and not a guest. But she had to see.

She slowly worked her way towards the side of the wagon, crawling over bolts of soft fabrics. It took her quite some time, and she was thankful that at least she was crawling on soft things and not lumpy bundles. At the edge of the wagon she was able to shift the canvas where it met the wagon and peer out just a little.

They had brought the wagons around into a half-circle with the fire in the center and the horses tethered to stakes on the open side of camp. She realized that the only wagons were the four owned by the gypsies and that she wouldn't be moving to another wagon that night after all.

Niza could see two men and a woman laughing as they tuned instruments and played bits of various tunes. The woman had some sort of stringed instrument she kept on her lap, and one of the men seemed to be playing a lute while the other played a flute. Except for the one with the flute, they sang along to the music they played.

A heavyset woman tended to the fire, with a couple of young boys helping her. A sturdy-looking man with graying black hair sat near them, smoking a pipe and watching the musicians. She saw him tapping his foot occasionally, in time to the tune being played.

Two young men were tending to other chores, taking orders from a third, older one. While one of them brushed down the horses, the other moved boxes from wagons to tents. Meanwhile, the older man sat on a crate, working something metal with a tool she didn't recognize. There was also two women sitting near the fire as well, about the same age. One of them was idly juggling a couple of balls in one hand while she chatted with the other. The second one listened, nodding occasionally, as she darned a sock.

She found herself staring at the cookpots on the fire more than anything, her eyes wide and wishful. Her mouth watered at the smells coming from the large kettle that simmered over the fire, and smell of something that had to be bread coming from another, covered pot that the one woman checked on from time to time. It was all she could do to stop herself from leaning further out of the wagon, as if just inhaling the scent more deeply would nourish her in some small way. Just the same, she made note of where the young man who moved the boxes about put the bags of horse feed. With some dismay, she realized that the couple of dogs the gypsies had with them were also tethered in with the horses. She nearly moaned aloud, realizing that her chances at getting some grain herself were ruined.

Authors' Note

- Brian
www.thefictionrealm.com

She had to lower herself a little and stop watching outside. She was feeling faint, and thought that rest would help. She heard bits of conversations, but she couldn't focus enough to follow any of it. She wished she could just call out for help. She was starting to think that being caught would be better than starving to death.

She woke up, never realizing she had dozed off. It was dark. Even the light on the side with the fire was dim. She worked her way back up to peer out of the wagon. The fire was still burning but small, and appeared unattended. From her limited vantage point she couldn't see anyone about.

Finally she called out for help. Her voice was weak and hollow sounding. She tried to yell louder, but wasn't able to manage much. She collected herself for one more try and afterwards collapsed down. Then she cried.

She had apparently escaped the Elar but was going to die in the wagon. She realized she couldn't yell loud enough to wake anyone up. She was fairly certain that she didn't have enough strength left to make it until morning. She wondered briefly what they would think when they found her body.

The sobs made it hard to breathe, and she stopped crying mostly because she lacked the strength to continue. She lay still then, and stared at her leg. She realized that she couldn't feel or move her foot. She assumed that could only mean she was already dying. She did feel cold, and when people died in the street plays she had seen they always talked about being cold.

Then she saw a light. She realized she wasn't scared. She felt strangely at peace. There was a figure, and the figure reached out towards her.

"Rikken, get yer ma!" the figure yelled. The sharpness of his voice shattered the peaceful feeling and Niza realized that she was shaking. It wasn't because of the cold, although she still felt as if she was slowly losing feeling all over her body. Her vision cleared for a moment and she realized that the figure was the young man she had seen tending the horses earlier. He held a lantern in one hand and reached the other one out to her.

"Can you move? How long have you been in here?" he asked. He was crawling into the wagon, getting closer as he spoke. She tried to answer, but her teeth were chattering too much to get a word out. She didn't have the energy to fight it and just closed her eyes against the brightness of the light and prayed. She didn't want to die, but she knew she was closer to death than she'd ever been in her life. She found herself begging the Gods for a chance to live, even though she knew that it was unlikely they'd listen to someone like her. Halfway through her prayers, the young man began trying to move her. Pain tore across her body like she'd never felt before, as if he was trying to split her leg in half lengthwise, up into her hip and abdomen. She heard herself scream before darkness washed over her again.

The next time she woke up, Niza saw the heavyset woman frowning down at her. Most of her body felt strangely numb and she was wrapped in blankets.

"Hello there, what's your name young lady?" the woman asked.

She tried to answer, but it just came out as a painful fit of coughing instead. Once it was over, she looked up at the woman who held out a hand.

"It's alright. Let's just see if you can sit up a little and drink some water first. If you can, then we'll try for some broth next."

Niza just nodded weakly at her and let the woman adjust some pillows underneath her until she was almost in a sitting position. She realized she couldn't feel the injured leg at all, but the lump in the blanket reassured her that it was still there. She felt some pain in her hip and abdomen when she was moved to sit her up, but it wasn't nearly as awful as it had been before.

The woman held the cup up to her lips and Niza couldn't help herself from drinking somewhat greedily. The woman pulled the glass away, chiding her in a gentle voice.

"Not so fast now dear, or you'll make yourself sick."

The woman offered the cup again and she managed to drink more slowly this time. The woman waited patiently while she drank. Eventually she stopped her little sips and the woman reclaimed the cup. The cup was handed to someone else who left.

She looked around. It appeared that she was in another covered wagon. It was a smaller one than the fabrics wagon she'd been in before. She decided she had been set on some straw or hay.

"Now, howsabout we try again," the woman suggested. "I'm Kella, what's your name?"

"Niza," she croaked weakly.

"There, that's better." Kella smiled. "Now, howsabout just a couple more questions and we'll get you some soup to try. You look like you haven't had food in far too long." Niza nodded, feeling short on breath.

"Let's start with this: are ye running from the Elar or something else?"

"They were hunting me," she managed to say slowly. "They had dogs. I didn't know what to do."

Kella looked a little skeptical at the answer, but didn't say anything. Someone cleared a throat outside the wagon and Kella turned. When she turned back she had a wooden bowl with a spoon in it. "Soup," she said. "Let's get a little more strength into you and then we can talk more.

Niza ate the spoonfuls she was offered. It was a gentle soup with tiny bits of potato. "For the moment you're safe with us," Kella said while Niza was eating. "But you can't stay. You're too sick for that. We'll help you get a little bit of your health back, but you need more help than we can offer."

Niza wanted to ask about her leg, but was too scared that the woman would say that it was going to have to come off. She remembered people she'd seen in the city who'd lost a leg to injury or disease. While some had had a wooden leg or a crutch that they got around with, others just ended up beggars on the street. It all depended on what kind of help they'd been able to afford when they'd been injured. She knew she would end up one of the beggars if the leg had to come off.

But at least you'll still be alive, she reminded herself. Somehow it was not much consolation. She'd always relied upon her ability to slip into places undetected and get away quickly if needed to. That would all come to an end with only one leg.

She tried to put those thoughts out of her mind for now, concentrating on the soup instead. Kella held out the bowl and Niza picked up the spoon, trying to bring some soup to her mouth. Her hand shook, however, and all she succeeded in doing was dumping the spoonful on the blanket before she could bring it to her lips. The soup smelled of meat and potatoes and her mouth watered just being so close to it. She wanted to just snatch the bowl away and pour it into her mouth, despite the steam that rose from it suggesting it would be too hot for that. Instead, she let the spoon drop from her shaking hand and a sob broke its way out of her. Once it had escaped, others followed behind it.

"There, now. It's alright dear." Kella used a towel to dab away most of the soup that had been dropped and picked up the spoon. "Here, I'll help you."

It took Niza a few moments to get herself back together enough to sip the soup off the spoon when Kella offered it. Once she started, however, she didn't stop until there was nothing left in the bowl anymore and Kella set it aside.

"There, now," Kella said, patting her lightly on her good leg. "You get some rest. We need to get you to someone for help, but you need some more of your strength back before you should be moved, methinks. We'll be checking in on you if you need anything."

With that the woman withdrew from the wagon, leaving her alone. She looked down at her legs under the blankets. She wanted to look, but was afraid of what she might find. Images of rotting meat crawling with maggots came to mind, and she very nearly lost her soup. She shuddered and tried her best to put that image out of her head.

Her backpack was lying next to her, still buckled up. Fresh clothes would be welcome, she thought, but that would mean moving the blanket off her leg. It would also be a lot of work in her present condition. She admitted to herself that what she really wanted was a bath. She wondered if she'd ever get one again.

She heard soft voices outside the wagon and strained her ears to hear.

"...If the gods have pity on her, perhaps," she caught.

"She's too bad off for me to save her," she heard Kella say.

"There's a town a little north. Maybe they'll know where to take her."

"Let her rest and get a little more soup in her before we move," Kella said. "Maybe see if she can keep down some bread too. The girl's obviously not eaten in some time either. With some food in her I think she can make a few days travel in the wagon, but if we start moving right now..." Kella trailed off and Niza imagined the woman shaking her head. Niza let her head drop back onto the pillows, with a lump in her throat.

"Just keep in mind that the longer we stay, the less progress we make away from the Elar," another, gruff male voice said. "I don't want to be around when they get to this area."

"We're well in advance of their soldiers," said one of the mens' voices. "They still need to secure the lands they've taken before they move on. We can spare a day or two."

"Then it's settled," Kella said. "We'll wait a day or two for her to get some strength and then go to the next town. If they don't have someone who can help her there, maybe they'll know of someone nearby who can."

"I still say we should just leave her," the gruff voice said irritably. "She had no right stowing away in our wagons, putting this problem on us."

"What's done is done," the other man's voice said. "She is here, and we've never turned folk away in the past. Maybe that's part of what separates us from the Elar right now, Jek. We'll see her into safe hands and let the Gods sort out the rest. For now, we wait a day or two. It's decided, and I'll hear no more argument on the matter."

Niza found herself sighing in relief as the voices faded away and she heard footsteps moving about outside the wagon. She reminded herself to make sure she thanked Kella when she next saw her, and wondered who the others had been from the ones she'd seen when she'd peeked out of the other wagon. She had no real way to connect which voices might belong to which individuals.

She slept for a while again, and when she woke up Kella was back in the wagon again. She sat next to Niza, focused on a bit of embroidery she was working on. It was an elaborate design on white fabric.

"Good morning," Kella said without looking up from her embroidery.

"Hi," Niza replied tentatively, wondering what time of day it really was.

"How are we feeling?" This time Kella tucked her needle in place and looked at Niza while waiting for an answer.

She couldn't feel her leg, and that scared her. Her stomach felt better, which was a little bit reassuring. For the most part she felt better all over.

"Not bad I guess, all things considered," she eventually answered. "But I can't feel my leg. What's going to happen?"

"It's too early to know that, dear. In a few hours we'll start moving. There's a town nearby. We'll see what kind of help we can get you there."

"I don't have any money," she protested. "I had some, but some looters robbed me when I needed to cross the river..."

"Well, you won't need it with us. We help those that need it as best we can. I'm afraid we can only help you so much though. Don't worry, we'll find someone who'll help you more."

"Thank you," she said meekly. "I don't know who else might be willing to help me more than you already have though."

"Well, if there isn't anyone in town who can help, then we'll find someone else. Churches will always help out someone in need of healing like you are. They just might ask a peck or so of work from you in return afterwards."

Niza nodded, wishing the sanctuary of a church felt truely safe. But when the Elar had invaded the city, they'd gone after the priests first. She'd also kept out of churches in the past, fearful that the priests would be able to see right through her and would condemn her outright for her thievery. She knew she had no more options left at this point, however, and that her fate was in the hands of the Gods as it was. She could think of far worse futures than being stuck cleaning church floors for the rest of her life.

While Niza had been thinking, Kella had leaned out the side of the wagon and called to someone in the camp. In short order, she had another bowl of soup in her hand which she offered to Niza. The bowl steamed slightly and smelled the same as the last soup. Niza held out her hands, trying not to seem overly eager despite the immediate rumbling of her stomach at the aroma.

"I think I can manage it myself this time," she said.

"Just let me know if you need help," Kella nodded, handing over the bowl. "And don't go too quickly. You're stomach still needs to adjust to getting proper nourishment. Gods only know what you've been eating, but it wasn't doing you any good, dear."

"Grass and horse feed mostly," Niza admitted between spoonfuls. "I don't have money and couldn't walk the road anymore with my leg. I started hiding in wagons when it hurt too much to walk. I was able to scrounge some food while walking through the fields, but hiding in the wagons made it harder. I figured if the horses could eat it, then so could I. At least for a while. I thought I just needed to rest the leg and it would get better."

"Where are you from, Niza?" Kella asked, returning to her embroidery as she did. She hardly needed to look down at the fabric as her hands flew up and down, drawing the needle and thread through it in a practiced motion.

"Riverport," she answered, not sure if that was supposed to be specific enough. It wasn't as though she had a true home there. She had heard other people refer to street names and such, but she'd never been able to read the signs for them. There were several she knew the names of, but even still it wasn't as though she lived in a house.

"Well, then you've already traveled pretty far then," Kella said. If they were chasing you for something, I'm sure they gave up quite a whiles back. But they are coming this way, but that's just an invasion, not chasing after a young girl."

"You think so?" Niza asked, doubtful.

"They're trying to take over the whole world, or so it seems. Not sure why, though. Everything we've always heard, they always kept to themselves. We used to talk to ship captains that would talk about how the Elar wouldn't even trade outside their island, or islands, or whatever they had. Maybe they're like a beehive that's been kicked." Kella shrugged and patted Niza's good leg. "But you let others worry about that. You've still got growing up to do. The world can sort itself out. It always has."

Niza had finished the soup. Kella rolled her embroidery up and pinned it together with the needle. She tucked it into a pocket in the apron she wore before taking the bowl from Niza.

"You relax now," Kella insisted. "We'll be moving in short order. I'll get you a skin of water before we go. Hopefully you can sleep while riding. I gather you have before, but you might not have had much choice."

"I'm sure I'll manage," Niza said, smiling. "And thank you. I do really appreciate your kindness." She didn't know that the words were really enough to let Kella know how grateful she felt. Kella just nodded and smiled at her in silence before leaving the wagon.

It wasn't long before she heard people moving about with purpose outside, and orders being given to pack things up. There were a couple of times when different faces poked their heads inside the wagon she was in while depositing a box or bundle in a pile at one end. While they peered at her curiously, no one seemed to have time to stop and say hello. It was just as well, since she found herself feeling tired again after just the little bit of conversation with Kella and the activity of eating the soup. She adjusted the pillows under her back to help her lie down a little more and nestled into the blankets. She was asleep again before they had finished hitching up the horses.

She wasn't sure how long she slept, but they were still moving when she woke up again. One of the young women she'd seen before sat in the wagon next to her, reading a book. Niza remembered her as the one she'd seen darning a sock by the fire when she'd peeked out of the other wagon.

"Hi," Niza said, feeling as if her voice was soaked up in the noise of the wagon moving. Nonetheless, she must have heard, since she looked up from the book.

"Hello," the girl said. "I'm Linsa. Kella thought you might be hungry again when you woke up."

Linsa reached into a basket next to her and pulled out some bread. Niza went about sitting up again and noticed that someone had put a canteen next to her on the blankets while she'd been asleep.

"Thank you," Niza said, taking the bread Linsa offered her. She remembered to pull off small bites and eat them one at a time, chewing slowly. The bread had a slightly herbed flavor to it that was quite good.

"So where are we going?" she asked between bites.

"Oh, I don't know. I kind of prefer it that way. I let the others worry about the details. I focus on today. We're headed to a town. That works for me."

She started to ask which town, but she decided she wouldn't have heard of it anyway. She could see the other girl's point. Maybe which town it was didn't even matter.

"But," Linsa continued, "for us, towns mean trade, which is good. There are a lot of things that smaller towns don't have. For example, they won't have any silk, but some of the womenfolk'll want some. We have some, so we can trade it for something else. Probably foodstuffs. And we'll put on some sort of show or play or something. You know, entertainment. Small townsfolk tend to be the hard working sort, so they usually welcome the diversion."

"Oh," Niza said, trying to envision what such a life would mean for her. Her life had always revolved around crowded markets. Food could be taken, purses could be slipped out of pockets. She wouldn't be able to live long like that in a small town. She frowned.

"But don't worry, you won't have to do anything. You'll just rest here in the wagon unless there's someone who can help you. And we probably won't stay longer than necessary if nobody there can help you."

"So the whole caravan knows all about me?" Niza asked nervously.

"There aren't that many of us, silly," Linsa said with a giggly laugh.

"I guess," Niza said, not really knowing what to say. "I'm sorry be such a problem though. I didn't know what else to do."

"Kella says you might not have made it if you hadn't made noise when you did. Sounds like the Gods are looking out for you. If that's the case, then it wouldn't be right for us not to help you too, don't you think?"

"Oh, I really don't know if the Gods are looking out for me," Niza answered skeptically. "Maybe I just got lucky is all."

"Well, if that's the case, then let's hope your luck holds out and we can find someone who'll help you soon enough."

"How bad is it?" Niza asked, looking down at the lump in the blankets where her injured leg was lying. The image of rotting meat and maggots crossed went through her mind again and she had to set the bread down for a bit.

Linsa bit her lip and looked between her and the leg skeptically. "You sure you want to know?"

"Yeah," Niza nodded. "I've got some pretty bad ideas as it is."

"Well, I helped Kella wash the wound and all that, so I got a pretty good look," Lindsa frowned. "It's infected. And Kella says it's been infected for a while now. The blood's bad or something. She said it's even too late to take off the leg and be sure it would save you. Besides, doesn't have what she'd need to help you, even if we did take off the leg. She said that us doing that would kill you for sure. We've got to find a proper healer for you - a wizard or a priest would be best, though someone with the right supplies and skill might be able to help you if they take off the leg. They'd have to leech your blood though, and Kella doesn't think you'd survive leeching either, since you haven't got much strength right now. She's aiming to find you someone who can save the leg too."

"Why can't I feel it?" Niza asked nervously. She was starting to wonder if she wouldn't have been better off not asking in the first place, but still wanted to know.

"The wound has been festering, basically getting bigger. Like a bad spot grows on a fruit. I think it got too big and hit something important in there. I don't know all that much about it, and I'm one of the last to be able to explain it well."

Linsa shrugged, frowning apologetically. "But you're still alive."

Niza was sure Linsa meant it to be reassuring, but it wasn't enough to make her feel any better. "I guess," she managed to say.

An awkward silence started, and they both turned to look at other things. Niza looked down at her hands, not seeing much hope for a future. The wagon rolled along down the uneven road. She wanted to be able to peer out of the wagon at the passing countryside, but she couldn't move without help and didn't want to ask for help.

This is my life now, she told herself, helpless and useless and just in the way hoping for pity from strangers. A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped at her face with her sleeve before Linsa would get a chance to see it. She pushed herself down a little in her bedding and laid back to try to sleep. She couldn't stop her tears but she hoped she could hold back the sobs.

She eventually did manage to fall asleep, but began having nightmares, usually relating to her leg. In one dream, a huge man dressed as an executioner stood over her with the biggest axe she'd ever seen. It was polished so she could see her own reflection in it as he swung it down to lop off her leg.

In another, she pulled open the blankets to see a black, rotting hole in her leg. It grew larger as she watched, seeming to eat away the leg. She saw eyes inside it, watching her. When the leg was nearly gone, she realized with horror that it was starting to eat it's way up her body instead.

The last, however was the most frightening. She was on the ground, trying to scoot herself backwards with her hands and her good leg, as the other one dragged along uselessly. A group of Elar soldiers were coming towards her, with a pack of snarling dogs. Leading them was one of the Elar priests she'd seen while trying to escape. He looked at her with dark eyes and a smile that suggested he enjoyed her fear and pain.

"Did you think we'd forgotten about you, Niza?" he asked in a cold voice. "When we find you, you will know what suffering truely is."

He gave a signal to the soldiers and they released the chains they held, keeping the dogs in check. The dogs bounded forward, barking and baring their teeth. The first one sunk its teeth down into her good leg, biting well into the flesh. She screamed and threw her arms up over her face to try and fend off the rest of them as they all fell upon her, biting and clawing.

That was the dream she woke up screaming from. While the other dreams had left her awake and shaking, the dream with the Elar and the dogs was the one that seemed to repeat itself the most over the next few days' travel. While she told Kella about the dreams, she found herself unable to mention the scepter in her backpack. They had been so nice to her, she didn't want to admit to them that they had a thief in their midst. She wished she could tell them, however, as she still wanted to leave it behind. Somehow she felt sure that the Elar must still be chasing her, and that they wanted it back. She couldn't get that thought out of her mind. She kept finding herself peering towards the back of the wagon, wishing she could see out to the road behind them and reassure herself that the Elar weren't coming up behind them.

She slept more and more as time passed. She hated being awake. She needed help relieving herself, which embarrassed her to no end. Then there started being blood when she did. That got worried looking frowns from Kella, who was more often than not the one helping her by holding a pan for her to use.

Eventually the wagon stopped and Linsa poked her head in. Lately it had mostly been Kella spending time with her. Niza decided it was because Linsa was afraid to come in and find her dead body.

"We've come to a town. We're going to see who can help you. Don't give up, okay?"

Niza managed a nod, but she didn't mean it. She coughed again, weakly, and Linsa left. She had been coughing more and more. This time there was blood that came up. There was also some worrisome yellowish stuff that she couldn't identify. She wiped it on her shirt under the blanket where no one would see right away.

She cried again, and didn't wipe at the tears or at her running nose. She was too afraid to bring her hand away and see more blood. The wagon started moving again. She felt it lean into a turn. She wanted to cry harder. She wanted to shake with sobs, but she was too weak. She passed out before anyone could come in to tell her what was happening.

Chapter 11 - Dancing

He wasn't sure where Vera had acquired the suit itself, since it was something he was sure Mekin would never have worn. It was tight across the back and in the arms, suggesting that the person who'd worn it last had not been as well-muscled as Ullden liked to keep himself. As a result, Ullden found himself sitting up straight, with posture that would have made his schoolteachers proud, instead of his usual lean to one side. He was afraid that if he moved too quickly, the jacket would split down the back. He felt like the deep puple color of the jacket made him stick out, despite the black pants, gray shirt, and silver trim. The shirt fit him well enough. If he could just get rid of the jacket itself, he'd be fine.

It came as no consolation that the girl had to be just as uncomfortable as he was. He'd learned her name, Jetha, but had yet to meet her directly. Vera had gone to talk with the girl's teacher earlier in the day, a wizard named Nordithet. Later, there'd been a meeting with Vera, Nordithet, and the wizard Odinous who'd shown up the evening before.

Odinous was from the nearest order of wizard scholars. They were older wizards, who'd finished their years of travel and teaching and had retired to a life of studying magic and it's effects on the world. There were "towers" of these wizards here and there, placed strategically about the country. Ullden had visited one once, to find that they usually weren't actually towers at all, although there was often one central tower within the group of structures.

This wizard had been making things difficult, and there was some obvious tension between the arrogant, overbearing Odinous, and the somewhat stubborn Nordithet. Odinous had brought details of premonitions that he and others of his order had done about the upcoming war. They too, had seen Jetha, Ullden, and others in their visions. Odinous had been sent to ensure certain things occurred according to what the order felt was necessary. It was Nordithet who'd been keeping the girl out of sight, stating repeatedly that he had matters under control. While Vera seemed to have taken Nordithet's side in the matter, Odinous seemed as if he wanted to put Jetha through some series of "tests" to make sure she was ready. None of them, however, could agree on just what it was the girl was going to have to do. Ullden had the impression that Vera and Nordithet were working out details behind Ordinous' back.

Odinous had obviously not approved of Ullden either. Then again, he didn't seem to approve of anyone really, so Ullden wasn't letting himself be bothered by the man. He'd had the unfortunate chance to be present while the wizard gave the Duke a sound berating for requesting assistance with the coming Elar invasion. Not that the Duke likely hadn't deserved it, in Ullden's opinion. Duke Radrek Lagenz seemed inclined to think the world owed him a great debt merely for existing, so Ullden doubted the request had been anything less than a demand. No one, including the Duke's wife Elsa, really seemed to care for the man. By the end of the previous evening, Ullden had been wondering what kind of death Vera had seen for the man, and somewhat guiltily hoping it was a brutal one.

He could see Jetha from his seat at the side of the room. He tried to smile and look friendly whenever she nervously glanced over his way - Nordithet had made it clear that she knew him from a premonition spell of her own. She was barely more than a child, but someone had tied her up into a corset and dress to try and make her appear older, more mature. He noticed the girl's mother, introducing her to young men and seeing to it that her dance card was full. He knew that the mother had no idea what was coming. Nordithet had taken the time a few hours earlier to have a long discussion with Ullden, asking questions and giving him some information on Jetha. Nordithet seemed to be judging Ullden's character before he sent his charge off with a total stranger on some mysterious quest. The wizard had indicated that the girl's father knew some of what was coming, but the mother would be the difficult one. Just watching them now, Ullden could tell that he was right. Jetha was training to be a wizard, but her mother was still lining up suitors in the hopes that the girl would reconsider and increase the family's social ties to other wealthy families.

He gave the girl credit. While Nordithet had indicated that she could be both stubborn and rash, she seemed to handle herself well amongst the crowd of socialites. He imagined the clothes were as uncomfortable as his own felt, but she glided along behind her mother, smiling and nodding as she talked to everyone that she was introduced to. He noticed that there were a few individuals her own age for whom the smile seemed genuine. Otherwise, the smile was pasted on her lips, like most of the others in the room. Ullden wondered how they could all tolerate each other. They had to know that it was all a polite facade. Nearly everyone in the room seemed there to try and secure some beneficial arrangement or other. The Duke's son coming of age seemed just and excuse to hold the gathering, rather than the reason for it.

The dinner before the ball was announced, and the thick wooden doors to the dining hall were opened to the sound of trumpets. Ullden stood up from his seat, taking care not to stretch so much that he might tear the jacket. He wondered how he was expected to dance in the damned thing. Then again, he didn't expect to do much dancing. This crowd was likely to dance a lot more formally than he was accustomed to on any regular basis. He'd grown used to sweeping women off their feet in bars and inns with his ability to keep up with the dancing, but dancing with titled ladies was another thing entirely. He really only knew a couple of the dances that were likely to be used that night, and expected to spend most of his time sitting off by himself. He wished he could have just avoided attending the party at all.

They moved into the dining hall and people took seats. Most sat relatively close to where they had sat the night before. The wizard Odinous was seated at the Duke's table, which had caused some shuffling around of seating arrangements. Someone at the other end of the table had been bumped off. Ullden wasn't sure who that couple had been, but the end result had been an empty seat next to the foreign wizard. It almost seemed as though the seat was empty because no one wanted to sit there.

Once everyone was seated, servers wearing masks of different animals brought out dinner. The man serving his end of the Duke's table wore a cat mask, black with white whiskers. Duke Lagenz was clearly sparing no expense, but to Ullden it seemed unnecessary.

He couldn't complain about the quality or quantity of the food, though. He had never been in the habit of dining on expensive fare, but he had stayed at some particularly nice inns, and knew enough to be able to tell good food from bad. he admitted to Vera that this was, in fact, good food. She merely nodded, seeming unimpressed.

Vera herself looked more splendid than he'd ever seen her. Of course, he had never seen her dressed fancy before, and was unaccustomed to seeing her display much bosom at all. Her hair was done up with long ivory pins and she was even wearing makeup. Ullden had caught the Duke staring at her on more than one occasion already.

Dinner was brought out all at once instead of in courses. Once everyone had food, the center of the room filled with entertainers. Jugglers juggled and acrobats leaped and tumbled. There were mummers and dancers, and all moved around a central group of musicians. Ullden looked around at the spectacle, and at the number of people present, and wondered if he'd ever been paid as much at one time as this party had to be costing. He was pretty sure the answer was no.

Despite the lively entertainment, however, the meal itself seemed to crawl by. He knew no one at the table, save Vera, well enough to make much conversation. The gentleman who sat to his right side was friendly enough, but they had already found out the night before that the prosperous local orchard-owner and Ullden had absolutely nothing in common. The man had mostly gotten to sit at the Duke's table because he'd been named as Elsa's godfather when she'd been born, being close friends with her family. Ullden knew nothing of orchards, and though the gentleman was polite enough, he could tell that the man had little interest in mercanary work either. Other than the occasional agreement on a dancer or song, they had little to say to one another.

Vera did talk to him some, however, and the two did some reminiscing on days past that helped pass the