Merric of Hollyrose strode purposefully down the wall of New Hope, watching over things. He was on the lookout duty while Kel was helping around camp. He was very surprised when he saw a lot of movement in the northwest.

"Kel!" he bellowed, running a large hand through his red curly hair. Sure enough, Keladry of Midelan bounded up the stairs in less than a moment.

"What is it?" she asked.

Merric wordlessly pointed to the northwest. Kel pulled out her spyglass and looked out. After a minute she smiled relieved, "Oh it's more refugees."

Merric smiled. He was glad it was not another attack. He leaned heavily on his elbows, gazing over the plain, watching the refugees hurry to New Hope. They progressed over slowly and Merric thought about how their coming would mean more food needed, more men and women to train, and more and more of his time. S

ometimes he considered leaving. At first, when he had been given this assignment, he definitely had. It wasn't taking orders from Kel that bothered him, it was that he was so close with these commoners. He had nothing against them exactly, but... there was something about how they watched him. Like they knew that he didn't like them as much as Kel did. It unsettled him.

He decided to show a different Merric to the newcomers, and prepared to follow Kel down to the entrance to the camp. No sooner had he relaxed then Kel shouted:

"Scanrans! Coming after the refugees!"

Merric bounced into action. He checked to make sure he had his sword and then, he waited shouted orders to the men and women of the camp. In a moment or less, his horse appeared, saddled and ready to go. He jumped on and they rode out to meet the Scanran's attack. As Kel, Merric and the men of New Haven hurried forwards, Merric heard a young female voice yelling orders to the refugees.

"Hurry now! Children and women get to the camp! Nothing is going to happen to you if you move!"

The source of these orders was a young girl, she couldn't have been more than sixteen. She was slender with dark brown hair in a braid. Her dress was brown homespun and she wore no shoes. There was dirt smudged on her face, and her green eyes glinted in the sun. The girl was wielding a sword.

"GO!" The girl screamed as some of the women hesitated. This group of refugees was all women and children, or extremely old or crippled men. Most of their men were off at war with Scanrans. The girl seemed to be the strongest one in the group.

Merric led his company to the Scanrans, his sword raised high.

"FIGHT, MEN!" he yelled as he charged on a Scanran. He rammed his sword into his body and turned to his next attacker. The battle was fought well, and most of the Scanrans were killed, and none of the men of the fort. They were used to such fights and had almost no trouble defending themselves and the retreating refugees.

Merric turned his horse around to see the girl fending off two mounted men from the ground. Merric urged his horse forwards and came at one from behind. The girl gave him a quick smile of gratitude before she blocked the other Scanran's double-sided axe blow. Merric was surprised as he saw her hold the blow off, her arm muscles bulging with the effort.

Finally, the fight was over and the remaining Scanran's retreated. Merric sent out a few men to scout the area for more of the enemy and then ordered everyone back to camp. Kel had already started after the refugees. Merric noticed the girl was wearily following on her feet and he drew rein on his horse to wait for her.

When she was right beside him he said. "Come now, ride with me back to the camp. That was a hard fight and we don't need you any more tired out than you are."

The girl grinned at him and, gripping her sword in one hand, have him her other. It was small but calloused and blistered. Merric pulled her up and placed her on the saddle in front of him.

"Be mindful you don't cut my horse with that sword." He said, acknowledging her unsheathed sword.

The girl looked back at him, "I won't sir."

Merric was surprised at the respect she treated him with, not many of the other refugees called him sir, though he was a noble. Having heard her say sir, it sort of placed him higher than her, and he found he didn't like it one bit.

"Please, call me Merric." He said.

She smiled, "All right, Merric. My name is Carrie." "Pleased to meet you, Carrie." Merric said. Neither said anything as they started to head for the camp. Merric reached around her slim waist to pick up the reins. In order to hold them correctly, both his arms were around her body and he had to lean forward so his head looked over her shoulder. It was rather awkward but both pretended not to notice it.

"I think you'll like New Haven," Merric said simply, "And you will love Kel. Everyone always does."

Carrie answered back, "I'm not always like everyone else."

Merric laughed, "No, you aren't. But I imagine you'll like Kel just the same.

Carrie said, "I imagine I will too."

Both Carrie and Merric were right. Kel and Carried got along wonderfully. Carrie was a lot like Kel had been at Carrie's age, but at the same time, completely different. She had fight in her, and spirit, but, unlike Kel, she had a huge temper. She didn't usually let it loose, especially not around children, but when refugees made trouble, she exploded. Carrie fit into the camp well. The refugees trusted her, and liked her, as did the nobles running the camp. She was found everywhere, on sentry duty, helping Neal in the healers tents, sometimes even helping Merric recruit men and women for training. Soon it seemed as if she had been there forever.

"Can I ask you a question?" Merric said quietly.

He and Carrie were on midnight guard duty, and Merric was sharpening his sword.

"Yeah," Carrie shrugged.

"Where'd you learn to fight so well?" Merric asked, looking up from his sharpening.

Carrie sighed. "Well, you know those lady knights that existed hundreds of years ago? I mean, way before Alanna and Kel?"

Merric nodded, still not really understanding.

"Someone in my ancestors was one," Carrie continued, "And so, in my family, everyone is trained in the sword. We were too poor to become knights, so each father and mother taught their children how to fight."

Merric sighed, "Wow. That's amazing."

Carrie sighed too, a heavier sigh. "I would have given anything to be a knight." She looked over at him, her eyes wistful. "I used to have dreams that some nice knight would come to our town and see me and say, "Oh, she needs to be a knight," and take me away from... my life."

Merric understood that. He had dreamed about being a knight ever since he was born. "Being a knight isn't all its cracked up to be," he told her.

Carrie turned to him sharply, her green eyes bright, "You get to make a difference. I mean, you count. You matter." she drew in a raggedy breath, "Not like some poor refugee girl."

Merric stood up and came to stand beside her. "Carrie. You matter too." Carrie looked up at him, as he was much taller, "Not to people like you." she muttered.

"What?" Merric asked, taking a step backwards.

"Look, you're a basically decent guy Merric, but I know that you don't like commoners." Carrie said quietly.

"WHAT?" Merric exploded, "That is not true."

"Oh yeah, sure." Carrie rolled her eyes, "I know you Merric. You pretend to like us, but really you still think you are better than us!"

"I can't help it!" Merric moaned, then realized he had said the wrong thing.

"You can't help it?" Carrie yelled, "Why? Because you honestly think you're better?"

"No!" Merric bellowed, getting frustrated, "I was raised that way!"

"People change!" Carrie screamed in his face, her eyes flashing angrily at him.

"I am changing! I- You know what, forget it!" Merric returned, throwing his hands up in defeat, "I can't even explain it to... to..."

"To what? A commoner?" Carrie challenged.

"Mithros Carrie! No!" Merric practically screamed.

"Then tell me," Carrie ordered, her arms crossed across her chest.

Merric calmed down, taking long deep breaths. "My family," he started to explain, leaning on the wall. "My family is very prim and proper. We do everything the right way, and we call on the right people and I was supposed to marry the right girl, and become the lord of the right fief and run it the right way. Which meant sitting on my ass all day and making love to my wife all night." Merric sighed.

"Sounds like you'd like it," Carrie muttered. That last remark had hurt something in her. The thought of Merric making love to someone... She shut her eyes to shut out the thought. Merric looked down at Carrie, and she could see he was truly hurt by that.

He groaned. "It wasn't what I wanted," he explained, looking her straight in the eye. "I wanted to matter, I wanted to make a difference too. I wanted to be a knight."

Carrie was really believing him, but she didn't want to. She didn't want to like Merric. This noble with his red hair and sparkling blue eyes and strong arms and deep voice... She stopped thinking and came back with the first remark she could.

"So daddy paid your way to be a knight."

Merric exploded at this. He grabbed Carrie's arm above the elbow and shook her, hard. He growled in her face, between his teeth,

"Carrie, you can attack my honor, my family and whatever else you want, but don't you ever, ever, say that I didn't earn my shield."

He let go of her and ran his hands through his hair, pacing. Carrie stared at him. So he really did care. He really wasn't just another noble. She stopped staring when he looked up and met her eyes.

"You're the same way," he said, realization dawning on him.

"What?" Carrie asked, confused.

"You hate nobles." Merric accused her, his face eager.

"No, that's not true," Carrie lied, but she could tell she wasn't convincing.

"Don't even talk to me," Merric said as he turned to walk away, "You're more prejudiced than I am."

He shook his head as if he was disappointed in her and slowly strode away.