Disclaimer: Tamora Pierce owns it all except for a few unfamiliar characters that I might add later in the story.

Summary: What if Keladry of Mindelan was bolted in the castle after killing Blayce not allowing anyone access to the keep, what happens when a surviving Scaren soldier stumbles across her unconscious form. Both sides of the story (Dom and Derek(and eventually Kel))

Chapter 1

He was running, his deerskin boots echoing in the abandoned stone hallway. His name was Derek and he was running from the evading Tortallan barbarians who had taken over the place of which he had once called Blayce's keep. He already passed the workroom of the master of the castle, Blayce. His lifeless body, behead, laid awkwardly on the floor. He quickly glanced over his shoulder, making sure that no one was following him in the chilled stone keep.

He flew forward tripping over something, or someone. He regained his balance, and turned back around facing the man slumped over on the ground. His face was hidden within the shadows. On his shoulder was a hastily made bandage, most likely from his own tunic, that he wore under the full body armor. Blood could be seen slowly soaking through, Derek knew from his own experience that the warrior, which he clearly was because of the weapons, was going to die within several hours if the blood continued to pour out of the weakening man.

Upon closer examination the man seemed to be a Knight, no basic paid soldier could afford the weapons that he possessed. He also had a Yamani glaive, a weapon that was banned from his country because of the alliance that Tortall and the Islands has formed. That could only mean one thing, this knight was from the country Tortall, he was most likely the one who had killed Blayce. For he had bolted the door during the majority of the fighting not allowing access to the inside of the keep to the invading Tortallans.

A thought crossed his panicked brain, if he could bring this knight to the king, surely there would be a reward for the capturing of Blayce's murderer. He approached the unconscious knight cautiously, afraid as if he would open his eyes and leap out at him. Yet the young man stayed unconscious oblivious of all around him including the approaching Scaran.

He touched the knight's uninjured shoulder to see if he would wake up, but there was no response. With that slight reassurance in mind he grabbed the limp knight by arm pits and attempted to pull him up over his own shoulder, but he quickly found that he couldn't do it. The weight of the armor and the man combined was to much for him to be able to carry. He sighed, clearly frustrated. Now he would have to waste more time pealing the expensive armor off the man.

Slowly each section of the armor was removed, he looked at it sadly, that armor was worth enough to feed a poor family for at least a year. God damn those rich Tortallans! They're swimming in riches while his people hardly had enough food for the main army to survive. With armor completely off he leaned down on his knees and once again grasped the knight by the arm pits and pulled him over his shoulder, this time he was able to slowly rise up, grabbing on to the the wall as to not fall over. Once Derek was standing up he grabbed the glaive that was leaning against the wall which was worth more then the armor because the weapons were not being imported to Scanra.

Slowly he wobbled down the stone hallway, willing himself to not give up. After about an hour with his shirt soaked with sweat and his breath coming in heavy gasps, he had made it to the front door. He yanked up the bolt with his free hand, and stepped out into the light.

He almost cried out in horror at the sight that awaited him. His comrades were collapsed on the ground, throats cut or chest pierced. Their blood coated the ground in a red paste that he would have to walk through in order to reach the open gates. He grimly smiled at the irony, the one good thing that had happened to him on this horrible dayBrought about the keeps destruction, but it also lead to his freedom. With that in mind he staggered to the gate and out in to the fields that surrounded the castle.

Derek had many problems, but one stuck out in his mind vividly. He had no way to reach the next town without collapsing from exhaustion of carrying the dying man.

Dom helped the remaining injured into the rickety boat that would ferry them across the river and supposed safety. He winced as he thought of Raoul's wrath would be at the loss of his former squire. That was something that he did not want deal with, especially with her death so fresh in his own mind.

He looked sadly at the empty shore of the Scaren side, there was no hope for Kel now even though he told the miserable children that she could come around the bend any moment, astride her stubborn war horse. She hadn't come, she was forever lost on the Scaren landscape, not even allowed a decent burial to allow her family to say their last goodbyes.

Her family, how could they had forgotten?! Someone would have to tell the Mindelans that their youngest daughter passed away. Tears came unbidden to his eyes, he tried to force them back, attempting to stay strong for the refugee. Yet nothing could stop them, and within seconds a river of tears were leaking silently down his face as he looked back to the shrinking shore with a heart filled with anguish.