Part One

Chapter one:

Ciem sighed as he settled down in his bedroll beside the fire. His mother and father, Novellee and Burdock, were in a makeshift tent a few yards back, as were Alanna and George. Sixty, he thought, and still going. He didn't think they'd stop until they died. Daine and Numair were also in a tent.

Kel, Dom and Neal were around the campfire like him. The collected group of nobles had come to escort them back to Corus. Ciem didn't mind, but he didn't have much to say to them. They were much older, more his mother's age. But when they spoke, they had intelligent conversations.

Ciem sighed as he rolled onto his back, pillowing his head on his hands and stared up at the sky. It was so different here then it was in Serinda. Everything there was so much more exotic, so much more beautiful because of the things it grew there.

He missed it dreadfully when they came to Tortall each year for three months. It was to become his kingdom upon his marriage and he couldn't wait. He had so many dreams, so many ambitions for his people.

But there was nothing he could do, as yet. They had returned to Tortall this year with the express purpose of finding him a wife. It wouldn't matter any more in Serinda who he married. The country was so secure that no one cared.

Serinda's mages were so advanced in the usage of the Gift now, that whoever was in Serinda's good grace's was set until someone could bring Serinda down.

But the beauty of it was Serinda was so inactive in the war dealings that no one wanted to conquer it. So they were safe for the time being. That was why they could afford to leave their country in the trusted hands of the royal advisor Trent.

He heard a stirring and a horse's call and assumed it was on of their horses. But the horse refused to cease its cries and soon another sound joined it. A child's weeping.

Ciem wasn't the only one to hear it. He heard the other's stirring and soon they were all standing about the fire, listening intently. Daine gave a cry and Numair caught her as she slumped forward a bit. Ciem knew her to be calling to the horse, for he could see the Gift working beneath her skin. It had always fascinated him to watch someone use magic.

Suddenly the horse burst through the foliage surrounding the camp. It was black as night, its sides heaving and sweat frothing on its side. A man sat atop it, staring blankly at them, blinking in the sudden light of the fire. The crying they heard came from the child sitting in the man's lap. The flesh around her eye was blackened and there were finger imprints around the girl's neck.

"What the hell?" Ciem asked, just as puzzled as everyone else. Daine was rushing forward, scolding the young man. She was extremely angry, furious in fact. And from her scolding words he could tell why.

"That horse lost a shoe yesterday, yet you continue to ride him. You haven't got off of him since you got on in fact. And there are numerous bruises and scratches. His back two legs are swollen and he is covered in sweat. Get off him this instant."

That got to the small man, and indeed he was small. He couldn't have been much taller then Alanna when he was on his feet. And he looked so slight. At Daine's words, the man looked at her and slowly shook his head of dark red coloring.

"Yes, you will get off. Or I'll pull you off!" Daine threatened as she stamped her foot. The poor horse was all she thought about, was all she could think about, all she could see. Again the man shook his head. The child had stopped crying and was struggling away from the man.

Novellee walked forward and grabbed the child under the arms, lifting her of the horse and settling her on her hip. The child gave a hiccup and sighed, then nestled close to her warmth.

"Numair, Burdock, pull him off," Daine demanded. The horse looked ready to keel over in that instant. They jumped to comply, grabbing the man's arms and shoulders and pulling at him.

Evie realized what they were about to do and tried to fight them, despite the pain in her shoulder. Tears trickled down her face silently, unnoticed as she struggled against them, digging her nails into their skin, trying to find purchase to pull them away. But she was too weak to fight and they easily evaded her hands.

They grabbed her tattered clothes and she barely had the strength to moan, "No, don't."

They grabbed her, gave a mighty tug and the pain sliced through her, searing along her nerves. She screamed in agony, trying to pull away, but she was so weak, it sounded like a low moan, one that caught in her throat and no one heard.

She struggled harder as they pulled harder, Ciem coming to add his strength to the lot. She thought she would die with the pain. "Please, stop," she whimpered but they paid her no attention.

Marnie began to scream, pounding her pathetic fists at Novellee. "Stop! Stop! You're hurting her!"

Because of the angle in which the arrow had entered her leg, the pulling did nothing but hurt Evie and she wanted to die, wanted to beg them to kill her and get the agony over with. They continued to tug and finally she leaned over and did what she had been afraid to do since the arrow had entered her.

She grabbed the protruding shaft and with an agonized scream that was clearly heard, wrenched it out. It tore through her infected skin and she began to weep. The pain was like nothing she had ever felt before, not even when Kempton had tried to beat obedience into her.

She was flung forward by the sudden release of her leg and she flew into Ciem, knocking him over as she sprawled across his chest and fainted dead away. All clearly saw the arrow protruding from her back and the bloody mass that had been her thigh.

"Dear Gods," Alanna whispered. Without a word, Neal came forward, his hands glowing with green light and began to heal her wounds. But it didn't look good. She was riddled with fever and infection. He looked to Alanna and she knelt to the prone figure, and added her Gift to the task.

Ciem disentangled himself from the man, as he still believed Evie as such, and kneeled beside him. The arrow was still clutched in her hand and he bent to inspect it.

The arrowhead was broad, and thin, made to slice through the air and through flesh. The edges were rough and jagged, made to tear the flesh if it was pulled back out. Which was why both had been left alone.

A few minutes later, both Neal and Alanna looked up, their expressions filled with worry. "It doesn't look good. But there is nothing much we can do for the moment. The wounds are closed over and cleansed, but we can't rid her of the fever for some reason."

Evie moaned in her sleep, her unconscious filled with nightmares and lived horrors. She thrashed about, turning her head from side to side, as if trying to ride herself of the visions.

"We'll have to keep her warm and sweat out the infection giving her the fever. It's not the best way, but at the moment, it's the only way. Ciem, you'll have to lie with him to keep him warm through the night. Novellee, you and Burdock can keep the child after I see to her. Let's move," Alanna commanded, dusting her hands together, a leader through and through.

After bringing the man to the fire, he saw that he was more of a boy still. His face had a scar running straight across his eye, and he wondered if he was blind in it. The cleanness of the cut made him think it was either a dagger or a throwing knife. Ciem didn't see the line around his throat, as it was to pale against the boys white skin. And he was so light he guessed that if he saw his stomach, his ribs would be sticking out.

Evie was moaning again, and Marnie didn't like it. But her intelligence was that of someone who had had years of schooling and she kept her mouth shut. She knew that Evie was her only chance and she wouldn't do a thing that would jeopardize their journey. She snuggled against the woman holding her and fell asleep.

Ciem lay down with the boy in his arms after dragging the bedroll closer to the fire. He himself was sweating with the heat, but the boy was shivering and moaning, as if he were cold.

The boy began to weep, silently, as if afraid that if he made to much noise he would be heard and shunned. Ciem, no stranger to the healing ward, talked to the boy, hoping the sound of his voice would sooth. But it didn't. With each word that left his mouth, the boy flinched and whimpered.

The boy brought up his arms between them and pushed against Ciem, trying to escape, trying to get away. Ciem fell silent and the boy stilled, obviously forgetting that he was there. Something was strange about the boy, Ciem could see it in his face, hear it when he moaned. It was almost as if he was a girl.

Before he could ponder on it more, fatigue caught him and he drifted to sleep, warmed from the boy's fevered body.