Chapter 2

Mairead watched as Tristan brought out his full strength to attack his opponent. They were just fighting in the dusty practice ring, but the sweat dripping from Tristan's matted curls was real- as was his intense concentration. The constancy of his offense was astounding; Mairead felt that she hadn't time to breathe. Her father could barely hold his own in the duel.

Mairead knew that Tristan would win, and later Lord Marke would laugh and tell Tristan that he had only won because he had the advantage of two hands.

Tristan had grown strong since the day of her birth, although of course she couldn't remember that. It had been nine years since that day, and Tristan was a man. My protector.

From what she had heard, the role had been a close thing. He might have gone mad on the day of her birth if not for his mother's survival... and someone smaller he could latch onto to protect: her.

"No!" Tristan said.

"Bu-u-ut... Why can't I defend our people?" Mairead asked.

"Listen, it's very dangerous. You cannot come to the ambush because then I will be too distracted trying to protect you..."

Mairead zoned out, mentally picturing how she would fight and save everyone, and Tristan would be astonished at her skill. I never should have tried to make you stay back and waste all your brilliance cooking soup! he would say in front of everyone.

Tristan interrupted her daydreaming. "Do you hear me? You won't come, right?"

Not actually sure what he had said, she thought it safe to say, "Right."

He smiled and hugged her. "I'll be back after. Maybe you can surprise me by making your famous lamb stew."

"It's not a surprise if you tell me to make it," Mairead pointed out, but she nodded, embraced by his warmth. She loved him; she loved him as the older brother he pretended to be. He walked away, waving one more time before he joined the ambush party.

Mairead dashed into her house, pulled on armor that was slightly large for her, took her bow and quiver, and ran to the woods where she could follow Tristan without being spotted.

Why does he always have to be uptight? Like the time he found out I fancied Brodie. I am nine years old; he doesn't need to protect me like that...

The thoughts kept going as she ran to the woods.

The ambush had already begun as Mairead dived into the bushes, waiting for the right time to attack. No one seemed worthy of her attention... except the huge man leading the raid! She came out of hiding and drew the bow, took aim, and fired. The giant chuckled as the arrow went past his body harmlessly, infuriating Mairead. She drew again and this time grazed his arm. The man grunted and glanced around to find the annoying bad shot. Panic knifed Mairead in the stomach as the giant's gaze locked with hers. He gave an evil grin and charged her.

Tristan grunted with satisfaction as his opponent fell dead at his feet. He looked up and around trying to find where he was most needed, and then he saw Mairead. Fear gripped Tristan as he saw the giant of a man charging her.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Tristan heard himself bellow. Without even thinking, he ran faster than he ever had before with one thought in his mind: Protect Mairead to the death.

Tristan was not quick enough. He saw the man stab at Mairead. She jumped to the side but the sword sliced her arm. That was when Tristan leaped at the man. He brought his sword down, causing the man to turn his full attention on Tristan. The man kicked Tristan in the gut.

"Run!" he yelled to Mairead.

She didn't respond, immediately drained of color. She was half-doubled over.

I do not have time for this! Tristan thought desperately, flinging sweat out of his eyes as he looked at the giant man. I have to get to that stupid girl!

With renewed strength, he jabbed, his opponent so shocked at the ferocity of Tristan that he was unable to block the sword. Tristan rammed it through his stomach and forced him to the ground- dead.

"Mairead!" he hollered. "Mairead, what are you do-" He broke off as Mairead, looking sickeningly the way her mother had nine years before, swayed and fell to the ground.

Mairead could not move. In fact, she could not breathe. Yet she was alive, and she could feel the poison in her blood.

Yes, she was alive. But not for long.

She rocked in a way that she knew but could not place. The air was cold and she heard only a swishing, lapping sort of sound, like wind and whispers of wind.

Maybe she was dead. It was hard to tell...

The movement jerked to a stop. She fell forward, and the already black world slipped from her mind.