Q & A:

So what happened after? What happened to Lauryn?

These are both good questions we should ponder about. *ponder ponder* Unfortunately, the next chapter does not answer those questions. The next chapter goes into the first actual chapter of the book Kally is reading. And it takes place sixteen years after the prologue. But not to fear…these questions will be answered eventually, in some way or another.

During whose reign does this occur? Are there laws against such cruel acts? What fief were they on?

The king at this time is: King Duane of Lolith. And no, there aren't any laws that go against the nobility. Fief? Lauryn's family lived in a very small village (a handful of scattered families only) that was on the Lord of Milloan's fief. The fief itself is also very small, and is located on the far edge of Tortall. Nobody really pays attention to it, the castle on the land is usually quiet and empty. The noble born from there traveled to other places for adventure and wealth, because staying at home and taking care of the land and castle are too much of a burden.

Does the story revolve mostly around Kally or Lauryn?

Well, originally, I wanted it to be equally focused on both. But it turns out…that Kally wishes to laze about reading Lauryn's story and Lauryn wants to be the focus. So it'll mostly be around Lauryn.

The horses, man! The horses! Are they okay? And what was so special about the colt?

The horses…are alive. They survived and were taken by the lords. A good thing? You decide. And what was so special about the colt that the young lord got so angry? Well, it wasn't just the colt that set the lord off. It was also because a commoner had refused him of something he wanted…and that the commoner's indisputably young son had actually told him off.

3. The Whipping

Nobles' Bane: Chapter 1 (Sixteen years after the Prologue)

Aarc shivered. His tattered shirt provided no protection from the chilly morning air.

The smell of fresh bread drifted to Aarc's nostrils and a rumbling noise sounded from his gut. It had been so long since he had had good, fresh food. He glanced at the men who were eating breakfast jealously.

But he knew that if he tried to eat some food himself, he would only make himself sick.

How anyone could eat breakfast moments before a whipping is beyond me.

He glanced around and studied the crowd that was gathered around him. Mostly male.

"You, there! Boy!"

I'm nearly eighteen, Aarc thought with bitter resentment. He turned to the gruff soldier who had addressed him. "Yes, sir?"

"Name?"

"Aarc Ganjin."

"What?" the soldier shouted.

"Aarc Ganjin, sir," Aarc said, voice louder and angrier this time.

"Ganjin." The soldier crossed the name off his list. "Go there!" he then ordered, pointing him through the gate and towards the open square.

Aarc stumbled through the gate, just narrowly dodging the boot that threatened to help kick him through if he wasn't fast enough.

"Well, they really are being meticulous about having one member from each family in attendance, aren't they," an amused voice came from nearby.

A hand reached out; Aarc took it gratefully. "You shouldn't say such things where they could hear you," Aarc whispered to the cloaked figure as he dusted off his pants.

"What will they do?" the stranger said carelessly. "Whip me?"

Aarc's eyes widened at the stranger's audacity. "They can, and they will," he finally said, "if they heard you saying that."

The man shrugged. "Here, you look hungry. Take this and buy yourself some food."

Aarc stared at the two gold coins that lay in the stranger's palm. It was more money than he had ever seen in his life. But just the thought of food made him feel nauseated. "No thanks. I'm not hungry," he said faintly.

"This your first whipping?" the stranger asked sympathetically.

Aarc nodded. "My father usually comes to the whippings, but he injured his ankle a few days ago, and so I had to come."

"Don't worry about it. Everything will be just fine."

Aarc just gave the stranger an odd look. A slave was going to be receiving a hundred lashes for trying to run away from his master, and this stranger was saying that everything was going to be just fine?

"Take the money. Even if you're not hungry now, you will be later," the stranger insisted pleasantly.

Aarc reluctantly stuffed the money into his pocket. Then the stranger turned to study the platform that stood in the middle of the town square, and Aarc took that moment to study the stranger. Or, at least, try to.

The man had a thick hooded cloak heavily draped over his head and shoulders. The hood effectively covered his face and the cloak his body. The man was not very tall, and guessing from his boot size, he couldn't have been that big in body either.

Aarc wondered how the stranger had gotten a hold of such gold that he was willing to give some of it away to others he just met.

Muffled screams and the increased loudness of the crowd pulled Aarc's attention away from the stranger and towards the platform. Lord Conest approached with several soldiers walking in a tight circle around him. Two more soldiers followed the first group up onto the platform. The muffled screams were coming from the scrawny, gagged man the last two soldiers dragged behind them.

"Is Lord Conest so low in his ability to defend himself that he needs eight body guards?" the stranger said amusedly.

Several people around them tittered while others were too concerned about the gagged man to laugh. But there was one thought everyone agreed on: Nobody wanted to be there in the town square, watching the whipping taking place. Everyone begrudged Lord Conest for requiring one member of every slave and servant family to be there as spectators.

It was to teach everyone a lesson, of course. Try to runaway and risk the lord's wrath. And his whip.

As Lord Conest started his preamble about slaves and their duty, Aarc realized that the stranger was moving.

He grabbed the man's arm. "Where are you going?"

"To get a better view."

"To what?"

"To get closer to the platform. Over there!" The stranger pointed to the big open space right in front of the platform. Everyone who had gathered to watch was staying back, trying to get as far back as possible. But this stranger wanted to get closer. Aarc wasn't sure if he wanted to get any closer.

But the stranger had given him two gold coins, and the least Aarc could do was stand by him and warn him to speak quieter before the stranger got himself into trouble.

He and the stranger squeezed through the crowd, coming to the front just as Lord Conest had finished his speech.

Lord Conest turned to his soldiers. "Begin."

A soldier pushed the slave onto a small table that had been brought out for him. He was pressed face down onto the table while his arms and legs were tied firmly to ensure stillness during his whipping.

The man groaned through his gag, bony shoulders heaving, but was too weak to otherwise protest.

The whip was pulled out, a soldier moved up to the man while the rest stayed back, hovering around their lord. The soldier lifted his arm, the arm that held the whip.

Aarc lowered his gaze and stared down at the dirt.

Crack!

He flinched when he heard the whip snap out.

A man let out a pain-filled cry, which was followed by deafening silence.

Well? Isn't he going to continue? There were ninety-nine more lashes to give.

Aarc opened his eyes and glanced up at the platform.

And gasped.

The soldier's arm, still lifted in the air, had the end of a whip wrapped around it. And the soldier's own whip had been dropped to the floor.

Aarc dazedly followed the line of the whip that was wrapped around the soldier's arm. His head turned…turned…turned…

Until he was facing the stranger who stood by his side.

For a moment, Aarc wasn't sure if the stranger at his side at that moment was the same stranger he had talked with earlier.

This stranger was not wearing a cloak around his shoulders. Instead, a black scarf was tied quite thoroughly around his head, only leaving slits in the front for his eyes and mouth. He wore a simple black shirt and matching pants. Something shiny glinted off the man's collar: a tiny pin. A vibrant green sash, the only thing (excluding the pin at his neck) on the man that was not black, was cinched around the man's narrow hips.

And he had a heavy black cloak draped over his free arm.

The stranger flicked his wrist, causing his whip the snap amazingly close at the soldier's face. The soldier cried out again and fell back.

The stranger then lifted several fingers to his mouth and let out a shrill whistle, which was immediately followed by the thudding of horse hooves. The stranger turned to Aarc, eyes bright, "Move!" and neatly pushed him out of the way.

A horse thudded by; the stranger deftly mounted it.

"Get him! Get him!" Lord Conest was shrieking. "Get--"

An arrow seemed to suddenly sprout from Lord Conest's neck; he toppled to the ground.

Aarc turned to look at the top of one of the buildings nearby. A black clad man stood there, another arrow nocked in his bow. He was dressed exactly like Aarc's stranger, except that he wore a brown sash around his waist instead of a green.

Aarc turned again when he heard the sound of clashing metal. His green sashed stranger, still mounted and with his cloak on the saddle in front of him, had a whip in his left hand and a sword in his right. He was fighting one of the soldiers, easily cutting him down.

But two more soldiers were trying to sneak up behind him.

"Watch out!" Aarc shouted.

Something whizzed through the air.

One of the soldiers who were trying to sneak up from behind fell back, blood spurting from his slit throat. Moments later, his partner was also brought down, an arrow in his back.

There was a sudden sound of another horse. Aarc saw another man approaching by horse, similarly dressed in black but with a blue sash.

Hey, he's not riding his horse…he's standing on it?

When the second horse approached the platform, the man, who had been kneeling over his horse's back, stood atop his saddle with one fluid motion and then executed a graceful flip from that position, landing nimbly onto the platform while his horse continued to run past.

The man had a sword drawn in one hand and held something else in his other. And when he flicked his wrist, Aarc saw something fly with deadly accuracy, straight into a nearby soldier's throat, slitting it before the soldier knew what hit him.

And while this was occurring, Aarc's green sashed stranger had also gotten onto the platform. He had sheathed his sword and had, instead, a knife in his hand. The knife was busily cutting through the slave's bindings.

Once the slave was freed, the other black clad man on the platform helped the first lift the slave and place him on one of the horses. Aarc's stranger got onto the horse behind the shaking man while the other got back onto his own horse.

Oh, no. The town gate. They'll never be able to escape. The guards should have it closed and locked by now.

By to Aarc's amazement, it wasn't. And instead of being manned by several soldiers, the only live figure in the gateway was a black clad, brown sashed man on horseback with yet another arrow nocked in his bow. The other two men quickly rode through the gate, but the one with the bow stayed for a moment longer.

He released his arrow, and, for a moment, Aarc thought that the arrow was for him.

But the arrow flew past, embedding itself into the now bloody platform. A piece of cloth that had been raveled around the arrow dropped to the ground. And Aarc saw what was on it.

The image of a black shield with a great X over it.

Aarc turned back to the archer in time to see him give the crowd of spectators a sharp salute. Then he, too, rode away, following in the direction of his two companions.

Aarc was filled with sudden exhilaration. He wanted to cheer, but he knew that he had to suppress it, for the nobles would not like to hear that he and the others had cheered after such a bold act of rebellion.

But it was hard. Real hard.

Aarc walked over to the cloth that had fallen from the arrow and stared down at the symbol.

Nobles' Bane, the infamous vigilante trio, had struck again.

He had one hand absently in his pocket, clutching at the two gold coins he knew he would never spend. Instead, he would treasure them as a memory of this incredibly event.

He couldn't wait to tell his family of his day.

~*~*~

"Kally."

Kalasin, just about to turn to the next page in her book, jumped and glanced up in surprise.

Roald stood in the aisle, one hand casually leaning against a shelf as he glanced down at her.

"You do realize," Roald said calmly, "that your ship has been waiting for you in the dock for more than two hours now?"

Kalasin let a look of surprise cross her face. "Two hours? Is it that late, really?"

Roald just shook his head. "What are you doing in the library while the rest of the castle is searching frantically for you, Kally?"

"I was doing research on Carthak," Kalasin said. "I mean, it wouldn't bode well for me to go to the country completely ignorant about it."

He held out his hand for her book; she gave it to him reluctantly. All one would need to do is read the title to see that the book had nothing to do with Carthak.

"Carthak: The Complete Guide to Its Rituals and Traditions," Roald read from the book cover with obvious surprise. He raised an eyebrow at her. "So you really were reading on Carthak." He shook his head, amazed. "Is the book any good?"

Kalasin took the book from him numbly. "It's all right," she said faintly. She glanced down at the book she now held at looked at the cover: 'Nobles' Bane. Written by: Lauryn"

Where had Roald gotten 'Carthak: the Complete Guide' from?

Dedicated to (and designed for): those in need of this story.

"Roald? What color does the cover of this book seem to be to you?"

"Brown, of course." He looked at her curiously. "Doesn't it seem brown to you?"

Kalasin blinked. No, it's not brown, she wanted to shout. It's pink!

"Come now, Kally. If you get on board the ship quickly enough, perhaps you won't have to deal with our father's temper."

Kalasin followed, too distracted to protest. She held the book, her book, limply at her side as she walked.

A.N.: First off, I wanted to thank Rosefyre for being such a wonderful beta! Quick and efficient, just the kind of beta I need. You should read her own fanfics. The one she is working on right now, "Cerranie" is sad, but a good read. Thanks Rosefyre!

Lastly, my mailing list is still open for add-ons. (It probably will be open…forever). But if you want to join it (I email you whenever I update), just leave me your email in a review.

~krizsta, who is tired and angry at her laptop for being such a stubborn duck.