Pippa hated water. She hated cheese, too. She especially hated being sold like cheese in exchange for water. Sitting on a rotten stump, deep in the moonlit Elven woods, Pippa contemplated her fate as the only daughter of the Count of Tavaris.
Situated on the Eastern border of Ellesmere, Tavaris was rich in the land's most coveted resource: water. The other noble families of Ellesmere were eager to ally themselves with the Tavaris clan, making Pippa one of the most eligible young women in the land. Lord Tavaris had made very profitable alliances for his son, but he was holding out for something else for his daughter; he was waiting for the king to make a proposal before considering any other offers.
Pippa sat on her log with her chin in her hands and sulked. A new suitor arrived at Tavaris Castle with every phase of the moon. Today, the ancient Earl of Wiverley had come to propose, and Pippa had been forced to sit next to him at supper. The man was a pig, which dishonours pigs. He picked his teeth, wiped his mouth on the tablecloth and sneezed on his plate. Pippa had gone without supper that night, for fear of losing the contents of her stomach at the table. Fortunately, Pippa's father had not been suitably impressed by the wealth of Wiverley, and the Duke had left without a betrothal.
Repulsed and alarmed by the idea of being married to a man with a son older than she was, Pippa had lost her temper and rounded on her father. A loud shouting match had ensued, ending with a resounding crack as her father's hand connected with her face.
From her perch on the log, Pippa watched the moon through the thick trees and rubbed her stinging cheek. Her sulking was rudely interrupted by loud, male voices ringing out through the woods. Pippa stiffened, afraid that her father had sent out a search party to retrieve her.
Leaving Folly, her mare, by the log, Pippa crept through the dense foliage toward the voices. Covering her bright red hair with a hood, she peered through a space in the leaves and spied a few soldiers standing in a clearing, talking in loud, carrying voices. Mail shirts peeked out from under their tunics, and each was armed with a sword. Several more soldiers were sprawled on the grass nearby. In the stillness of the night, Pippa could clearly hear their conversation.
"I've heard she's got a temper," said a dark-haired man.
His companions laughed.
"Aye," said the one to his left. "Turns completely red when she's angry. Looks like a wee carrot" he laughed, indicating a spot under his shoulder.
Pippa, crouching in the underbrush, bristled at the comment. She knew she was short and rather scrawny, but she hated being reminded of it. Then, she frowned. These were not her father's soldiers; their tunics were the wrong colour. The Tavaris clan colours were yellow and blue. The soldiers wore red.
Pippa shuffled a little closer, trying to get a clear look at the coat of arms embroidered on the soldiers' sleeves. As she inched her way forward, her view of the clearing became wider, and Pippa's eyes widened in horror. These were not her father's men; they were from Sayre, another powerful clan in Ellesmere. And there were hundreds of them.
Pippa's heart began to pound, and she slowly backed away from the army. Her foot found a dry branch, and a loud crack echoed through the still, night air. Pippa froze. Her breath caught in her throat.
"Who's there?" A blond soldier unsheathed his sword and squinted through the gloom in Pippa's direction. His long weapon gleamed in the moonlight. Her breathing quick and irregular, Pippa stood as still as a statue. Centuries passed, and then another voice broke the silence.
"Aw, Jem, don't be so paranoid," said the dark-hair man. "It's probably a rabbit."
"You're right," said Jem, but his eyes swept the foliage, looking for any sign of movement.
Pippa slowly backed away from her hiding spot. Once she was far enough, she broke into a mad run, weaving through the trees like a fox with hounds on its tail. Folly was waiting for her near the log. Using the log as a step, Pippa swung herself onto the mare and dug her knees into Folly's side.
"Go, Folly," she urged the mare, desperation and fear weaving through her voice like poison. She had to warn her family. The mare obliged, and Pippa clutched the reins as her horse galloped through the woods. Pippa sat low in her saddle, face nearly on the horse's neck. Finally, they broke through the line of trees and Pippa raised her head to look at her family's castle, only to be greeted with a vast expanse of water.
"No," she breathed, feeling as though she had been kicked in the chest. She had gone the wrong way. No castle, but a massive lake lay before her, stretching over the fields, reflecting the sliver light of moon. Dread spreading through her veins like ice on a window, Pippa pulled Folly's reins, turning her back into the woods.
"Faster!" she urged the mare, trying to control the paralyzing fear that threatened to overwhelm her. Folly's body was covered in sweat, and foam dripped from her mouth. The exhausted horse stumbled on the uneven ground and collapsed, sending Pippa into the air. She felt a sharp pain in her head as she hit the ground. Before she had time to panic, the world went dark.
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