Jadis sat on a grassy hill overlooking the rest of the village. A bit of her white muslin skirt played with the wind as it completed its rounds about the hill. Below her preparations were being made for the soldiers that were to be passing through. Tents were set up and someone was roasting a boar; she could smell it. Mothers did their laundry outside their small quaint houses while the men fixed the tents deeply into the earth; children played giggling games of crack-the-whip.

Jadis saw two women look at her discreetly, then snap their eyes back when she met their gaze. She wasn't dull' she knew they were gossiping. The people of the village referred to her as "that scholarly girl…what's her name…" No one really expected her to participate in the hubbub going on below. Steele and her father weren't in the field either' they were in the smithy up the hill. The occasional echo of hammer striking anvil would drift down to Jadis' ears.

She was thinking of what would happen with the soldiers. Last winter a lieutenant had carried Jadis' sister Amethyst off to some obscure region of the world when the troops moved out. Jadis wondered if the same would happen to her. She hoped not. She didn't want some smelly, bulky man to wake up to every day for the rest of her life. Jadis was not the only girl pondering the arrival of the army. That morning the market had been filled with chattering young ladies fantasizing about their brawny future husbands. Well, they could all dither away; they had no brains to speak of.

Presently Jadis rose to her feet and made her way up the hill to her father's smithy. Steele was standing over an anvil, whacking away at something. Mr. D'Hiver was in the corner smoking a pipe, working with shaky hands on a chain mail vest.

"What is that for, Papa?" Jadis asked, placing her hand lightly on his shoulder as to not startle him.

"Oh, we though we could make a few extra things for the soldiers, just in case."

Steele quietly laughed. The war was somewhat of a joke, as nothing resembling a battle had been fought for at least three years.

There was a pause while Jadis picked up her book of poetry she had laid on a counter the night before. She sat down on a bench, kicking her feet up on a barrel.

"So why does the army choose here every year? They've come every autumn for as long as I can remember. Jadis, put down the book. Girls shouldn't spend so much time reading." This came from Steele, accompanied by a clink as his hammer was set down on a side table. Jadis scowled.

"I suppose it's just that the field is convenient, and the people are nice. Speaking of the army, Steele, when are you going to join them?" asked Papa, dropping a small piece of chain and grunting.

"Ah, I couldn't do that and leave you alone to deal with Jadis? That would be cruel of me—WHOA!"

Jadis picked up her shoe off of the floor and hurled it at her brother. Papa merely shook his head and went out the door toward the house.

Jadis raised an eyebrow.

"No," she said, "I think you're just scared."

Steele's face darkened. He was especially sensitive about fear.

"I fear nothing, Jadis."

"Not even…" she paused to think of the most horrible thing she knew of, "lions?"

Steele chuckled.

"No, my sister. Not even lions."