Really Quick A/N:
Not as long as some of the previous chapters, but its 14 pages long. In total, the whole thing is thus far 118 pages typed on word processor (single spaced) in case anyone was curious.

Reply to anonymous review:
"Me" – Nope, there was no typo, but I should have thought to clarify. There are, in fact, two Prince Jasson's in existence. King Jonathan has 3 sons: Prince Roald, Prince Liam, and the youngest Prince Jasson. In this story, Prince Roald, who is the heir to the throne, has four children: three daughters and his own son also named Prince Jasson after the Old King. Hope that helps with the confusion.

-4-
Midwinter

The weeks passed and life at the palace fell into a normal schedule again, although Inara felt more tired than she ever had before because of carrying around the metal blade. She had, however, begun to prove that she was able to use one as well, if not better, than she could choose one. Already, she was the best among the first years, and she was rapidly gaining in ability on Asten, the best swordsman in the second year.

The Sunday of the week before Midwinter, Lord Padraig finally gave Inara permission to go into Corus for the afternoon. Grinning, she rode Hikari through the streets, while Evan followed her.

"Tell me you wanted to go to the Royal University on our day off," the older boy demanded, as he maneuvered his stallion through the crowd.

"I never told you?" she asked, not completely paying attention. She was looking at everything at once.

"No, you didn't," he said, getting a little annoyed.

"My brother is a student there."

"Brother?" Evan now pulled his mount up beside her. "You never said anything about a brother."

"I've got four."

"Four brothers and you had to be the one to carry on the line of Queenscove line. Your father must be so proud," he told her. Inara shrugged. They were nearly there.

"My brothers aren't exactly suited to the life of warriors," she explained, ignoring the look that Evan sent her. "Well, they're less suited than me. Baird, the oldest, he's got the potential to be a great Master mage. He and my brothers Emry and Kennith are at the city of the gods, although the twins just want to be healers."

"What about your fourth brother?"

"Donalin? He's the one at the university. He's studying law. When he was ten, he told Papa he would rather be turned into a tree than face the Chamber of the Ordeal."

"He's sounds like a real pleasant individual," Evan replied sarcastically. Inara laughed.

"He can be rather difficult. He has a very sharp tongue which he prefers to a blade."

"Wonderful. I finally have a Sunday without any work to do, and I get to be cut by a tongue wielding scholar; lucky me." The two pages had reached the University, and handed their mounts over to the holsters. Inara pulled off her mittens and stuffed them into the pockets of her winter coat, as they entered the main building.

"Inara!" She was hit with more force than she was expecting, as a young teenager, about six inches taller than she was hit her at full force. She hadn't seen him since the summer when he'd come home on recess. He lifted her up and spun her around, making quite a spectacle of himself, before he set her back down on the floor. "You're late," he added. Donalin had his mother's dark eyes and his hair was as jet black as his sisters. However, his eyes weren't nearly as narrow and his skin wasn't nearly as pale. He looked almost as much like a pure Tortallan as anyone else in the city.

"The roads were crowded," she defended herself. He grinned and shook his head.

"You didn't come alone, I hope. Knight to be or not, a young lady shouldn't be roaming the streets of Corus by herself."

"Of course not, Don," she replied, looking around for Evan. She located him watching from a safe distance away and beckoned him forward. "Evan of Jesslaw, this is my older brother Donalin of Queenscove."

"This is what you call protection?"

"Be nice," she scolded her brother. "He's like this to everyone. Don't take it personal," she told Evan, who nodded. Suddenly she seemed to remember something and turned to her brother. "So, where is it? Show me?"

"Show you what?" Evan asked her.

"An opal. Not a black one, but its still an opal. Baird bought him one for his birthday," Inara told her sponsor, not looking at him but rather searching her taller sibling for the jewel.

"You'd best show her," Evan told the older boy. "She's like a puppy. I'm pretty sure she'll sniff it out, sooner or later."

Donalin nodded and smiled, pulling a pendent out from under his tunic. A white opal rested in the setting, gleaming. He handed it over to his sister, who squealed in delight. "So, Evan. My sister tells me you're her sponsor?"

"Yeah. She takes some looking after," Evan replied.

"She does. If you're not careful, she tends to get lost." The boys' conversation was interrupted by a bright light flashing through the vicinity. It disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared; the opal pendent in Inara's hand at its center. "What did you do?" Donalin suddenly whirled around.

"Nothing; I didn't do anything. All I was doing was touching it," Inara replied, she pushed the opal toward her brother. She hadn't like the way the gem reacted. Only people with the Gift should have been able to make anything happen with it.

"Touch it again," Donalin ordered.

"I don't want to," she retorted, fear evident on her face. "Please, just take it back. It's really pretty. I don't want to break it." Donalin sighed and took the opal back, while Evan noticed that the hand Inara had behind her back was shaking. Her finger tips looked like they had been burned by something. However, with her brother there, he didn't think he should say anything.

"So, were we just going to sit here all day, or did you want to do something?" the older page asked Inara.

"Could we go explore the city?" She begged. Donalin groaned, obviously not liking his sister's suggestion.

"Oh, alright; I'll go get my cloak. Wait here," he told them. "Inara, don't touch anything," he called over his shoulder as he disappeared down a long hallway.

"Inara," Evan said, as soon as he was out of hearing range.

"Hmm?"

"Let me see your hand," he commanded. The girl presented her left hand. "The other one," he told her. Inara hesitated for a moment before bringing her right hand out of hiding. "You did burn your fingers! Was it the opal?"

"Don't say anything to Donalin. I'll tell grandfather I burnt them lighting my candle and he'll fix it."

"But maybe we should figure out what happened. Your brother's supposed to be smart. Maybe he knows."

"No," she pleaded. "Master Numair even said it. Only people with the Gift can use opals. I don't have it. It was an accident; maybe some residual heat."

"Residual heat that singed your fingers?" Evan asked her.

"Please don't say anything."

"Fine," he agreed, but only because Donalin was coming back. Together, the three of them walked out onto the streets of Corus.

Halfway through the afternoon, Inara was leaning on Donalin's arm, while he carried her shopping bags containing Midwinter gifts for her family and friends. The three were laughing and eating hot soup that Donalin bought from a street vendor for his sister and Evan.

"Hey half-breed," a cross voice met her ears. Inara nearly dropped her soup as she released Donalin's arm. "Turn around, you foreign slut," the voice hissed. Inara felt her brother stiffen at her side. He seemed to turn at the same time that Inara and Evan did, to lock eyes with Gilyith and Lorrence. "One man isn't enough for you, hybrid?"

"Shut up, Gilyith," she said just loud enough for him to hear. She was ashamed that her brother was there to witness this, but if need be, she'd make sure she landed at least one or two punches before Evan would have to drag her to a healer.

"You know this boy?" Donalin asked disbelieving. Inara wasn't listening, but Evan nodded to him and then whispered something in his ear.

"Look Lorrence, the half-breed thinks she can order a Tortallan about. I'm not surprised she got Jesslaw wrapped up in her scheming. He's no better than a foreigner," the boy hissed. "But you sir, you look like a man of noble blood."

"Looks can be deceiving," Donalin stated calmly. He hadn't even shifted position.

"Donalin," Inara whispered, but her brother placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I'll say," Gilyith stated, not noticing the siblings exchange.

"When I first saw you I though you might be an ill bred rogue. But now, I can see that calling a swine like you a rogue would be an insult to the community of thieves. I must remember to apologize to them."

"What did you say?" Gilyith was flexing his fists, coming closer to the three of them.

"I called you a swine. Do you have a problem with that?" Donalin paused. "Well, I can see you do. Perhaps you should have considered that before you called my sister a slut and a half-breed."

"Sister?"

"That's right, or didn't you notice the family resemblance?" He smiled, hugging Inara around the shoulders. The girl groaned and hid her face. "Are you too stupid to have figured it out? Maybe I was wrong. You can't be a swine; they have more intelligence. Maybe your mother slept with a Stormwing. Is that why you smell so bad?"

Gilyith came towards him, fist raised, but Donalin looked unfazed.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the older boy told the angry page. Gilyith paused. "You see, while all you may get for striking another page up at that palace of yours is a punishment assignment, the provost tends to frown on it down here in the city. I doubt they'd go easy on you when they find out some of the names you called a noble lady, and unprovoked as well."

"It's my word against yours," Gilyith hissed. "I'm a royal page."

"And I'm a student at the royal university, my dear boy. But position aside. Who do you think they would believe? A swine from Marti's hill, or the grandson of a Duke? Or did you forget the house my sister belongs to before you started your insults."

"I – uh…"

"Yes, that must be it. You forgot. Well," he stated bluntly. "No harm done. If you'll excuse us," he took his sister by the arm. "Come on Inara. Let's go enjoy the rest of our day." With that he led Inara and Evan away from the two very stunned pages.

When they were out of hearing distance, Evan shook his head. "Inara, your brother is crazy."

"He's trying to get me killed," Inara retorted.

"What do you mean? I saved you."

"And if I'd wanted you to save me, I would have asked. You actually just made it worse. Do you realize what he's going to do to me when we get back in the palace where all he'll get is punishment work? He's going to kill me."

"Just explain things to that training master of yours," Donalin told her simply. "I'm sure he'll understand." Inara stared at him.

"I – you – oh Mithros, you know nothing," she shouted, and stomped off a few feet before reversing direction and coming back towards them, making squawking sounds every time she tried to look at her brother, trying to find the right words to say to him.

"She gets more like father every day," Donalin stated. Evan looked at him.

"She's right though. Gilyith isn't going to leave her alone now. He's going to get revenge somehow."

"Preposterous," the young scholar told him. "My sister is over reacting. Once she explains things to Lord Pad- oh, what's his name, everything will be fine. She shouldn't have to deal with scum like him anyway."

"Donalin! I'm going to kill you," Inara shouted, tackling her older brother to the ground, while Evan watched. Maybe Inara was right, and insanity did run in her family.

Inara didn't have to wait long for her prediction to come true. The day after her outing with Evan, she realized that she'd forgotten a new comb she'd bought for Hikari in her room and ran to get it after breakfast that morning. It wasn't until she was on her way back that she realized she wasn't alone. She silently cursed her brother's big mouth as well as her own stupidity for not asking one of her friends to come with her when the incident was still fresh in Gilyith's mind. Inara sighed and tossed the comb aside as she slid into a defensive stance in front of Gilyith and his friends.

"Aren't you going to ask me what I want?"

"I don't need to waste my breath," she told him.

"Your brother is an idiot," he replied.

"I know." She paused to let him think she agreed. "But he was right. Are you going to fight like a noble or the storming you really are; your buddies going to help you take down a girl?" She wasn't sure it was a good idea to make him angrier, but she hoped he might not let Lorrence, Thorville, and Hakim help if he thought it made him look weak. "I don't need their help," he spat at her. She had to suppress her grin at the fact that her suspicion had been correct. "Keep watch in case someone comes," he ordered the other three boys, who jumped to obey. "I'm going to enjoy this," he told her, coming at her, fists raised.

Inara was ready for him. His fist swung forward, she dodged and came up inside his defenses, catching him in the arm. Two more years experience, however, resulted in Gilyith being able to catch her jaw on his other fist. She bit her tongue to keep from screaming and kicked out with both legs. She clipped him as he backed up to avoid her, giving her a moment to take inventory of her injuries. Her fist hurt from colliding with his arm, and her mouth was bleeding. She couldn't tell if she'd hurt his arm, but he was slightly bent meaning she'd gotten him in the stomach. Suddenly he charged at her, catching her eye with his fist. Before she started to collapse, she landed a few wild blows on various parts of his body. His second fist went to her stomach, driving her to her knees. I'm going to die, she thought to herself as his boot clad foot collided with her side and her vision went white.

When Inara came to, she was lying on a bed in the infirmary. Her pain was gone, but when she tried to sit up, she felt something like a sharp knife in her ribs. Someone's hand guided her into a sitting position and handed her a cup of water. Once she drank, she handed the cup back, surprised to see Lord Padraig sitting on the bed beside her. "You got a few ribs broken."

"My lord?"

"When you didn't show up to hand-to-hand, some of the other boys got worried. Hollyrose informed me that you'd gone to get something from your room and never came back. He and some of the other boys were insistent that you would never ditch training."

"Never, my lord," Inara assured him. The man nodded.

"Sir Zahir found you passed out in the pages wing. Who did you fight with?"

"I fought with no one, my lord."

"How'd you end up on the ground?"

"Perhaps the floor was wet. I believe I remember falling, my lord."

The training master shook his head. "An answer dictated by tradition. You know what, Queenscove? I'm beginning to hate tradition," he told her, standing up and walking towards the door. "One bell of work two Sundays from now at the smiths for only breaking his nose," he told her with a small smile, and left.

"Lord Padraig may be a conservative, but he knows how to be fair," Duke Baird's voice reached her. "Those boys were trying to kill you."

"If they were, I'd have a lot worse than some broke ribs."

"Had… your ribs are healed."

"Then I can go back to lessons?" Inara asked him.

"It's already after supper," he informed her. "You'll eat and sleep here tonight."

"But my work," she worried.

"We've got it right here," Corin's voice said from the doorway. She turned to find her friends standing in the doorway, Corin carrying his own books and hers. "Salma let me into your room."

"Mithros Queenscove, Gilyith did a number on you," Yancy told her, taking a seat. Duke Baird sighed and left the pages to themselves.

"How'd he look?"

"You didn't do too badly. He told Lord Padraig that he fell in a bush to explain the scratches and bruises on his face and arms," Seth told her.

"Lord Padraig had to ask if the bush had also broken his nose," Asten laughed. "He didn't know his face was covered in blood and his nose was all pointed the wrong way."

"I don't think those idiots he calls friends even tried to tell him," Benton put in.

"You guys?" Inara asked, smiling. They all turned to her. "Thanks," she told them. They nodded and got started, spreading their books out on her bed.

The week to Midwinter passed by quickly. The teachers, ready for the holiday without classes, gave the pages more work than they'd ever had before. Instead of spending their time out having fun in the snow that had fallen onto the practice courts, most pages would be spending large portions of their days doing extra work in their rooms. Nights were to be a completely different story.

Inara stood in front of her mirror, Lidia beside her, as she tried to get her crimson hose to stop sliding down her leg. The maid was helping her smooth the wrinkles out of her tunic, when someone knocked on her door.

"Come in," she called, not wanting to move in case she made the hose slip again before it was secure. Yancy stuck his head in the room.

"You ready, Pup? We're going to make his glorious majesty look us over and deem us presentable," he told her. Glorious majesty was Yancy's current name for Prince Jasson. As they got closer and closer to the examinations in April, Jasson, who would become a squire if he passed the big ones, was acting more and more like a prince, and less and less like a page. Yancy just barely tolerated him.

"Jasson's just nervous, Yancy," she told him, glancing at Lidia to see if she was good to go. "So, how do I look?" she asked the maid.

"Well, you look as good as anyone can in those colors," she laughed. "Go on with your friends. Master Oakbridge will have a heart attack if you're late."

Inara thanked her, and dashed out of her room to go with Yancy. "I suppose you're right about Jasson," he told her as they walked.

"Of course I am," she replied, smiling. "But if he's still being a pompous brat after his big examinations, we'll knock some sense into him.

"We'll? Getting any better at fist fighting, puppy?"

"Gilyith is giving me plenty of practice."

"I wish you'd hurry up and beat him," Yancy replied.

"Believe me," she told him, "so do I."

They reached Jasson's room to find the other six were already there, the prince looking each of them over from head to toe.

"Inara's here at last! Now we can get a lady's point of view," Asten called out. The other boys added their agreement.

"You all want my opinion?" she asked, sitting sideways in Jasson's chair.

"Yep," Evan told her.

"Fine," she laughed. "You all look like red and gold fruit cakes. Sorry boys, but I got my Papa's eye for fashion. Hence the real reason I didn't want to go to the convent. My shameful secret is out at last," she added feigning a faint.

"Alright, which one of you gave the puppy wine?" Seth asked the younger boys as everyone started laughing.

"I am perfectly sober, thank you," she told him. "I think," she added as an after thought.

"Come on, you lot. We don't want to be late," Yancy announced once Jasson deemed them all perfect.

"Yes we do," Sam, Benton, Inara, Asten and Corin all replied at the same time. Inara, like the other first years, wouldn't be serving at the banquet, but that only meant she would spend the entire night on the stairs passing dishes to the older boys under the watchful eye of Master Oakbridge. Asten and Corin, however, would be serving for the first time, and it was obvious that they were nervous.

"It's these stupid banquets that make me wish the royal family dined with their nobles more often," Asten complained as the other four steered them out of the room.

"Why?" Sam asked him.

"Because they required the pages to serve at meals," Jasson explained. "It gave pages practice for the more important dinners."

"Jasson's great grandfather King Roald was the last monarch to do so," Evan put in.

"Grandfather didn't want people standing over him whenever he ate," Jasson added. "But some practice would be nice. Maybe I'll mention it," he stated, more thinking to himself than speaking to the group. They had reached the doors to the kitchen they were supposed to meet at. "One last check; you all look like perfect gentlemen."

"Ahem," Inara coughed. Jasson grinned.

"And one very royal looking puppy."

"Hey!"

"Hay is for horses, my dear," Seth laughed as they all shuffled into the room.

Despite everyone's nerves and the three near heart attacks that their Master of Ceremonies almost succumbed to, the first night of the Midwinter banquets went smoothly. After the nobles finished their meals, they moved off to the different ballrooms where the first parties would take place. The pages were finally released to get their own suppers while the squires took over the duties of serving at the celebrations.

Inara felt herself shaken awake at the end of supper. She'd eaten most of her meal, but it was obvious that something had prevented her from finishing. The only thing that kept her from being thoroughly embarrassed was the fact that Sam and Benton had also both fallen asleep.

Corin walked her back to her room, pulled off her shoes, and made sure she got into bed. "Good night, Narie."

"Cor?"

"Yeah."

"Happy Midwinter," she whispered.

"Same to you. See you bright and early tomorrow," he laughed. Inara just groaned as she flopped back down onto her bed and Corin closed her door. She was sound asleep by the time her head hit the pillow.

Night after night passed the same way. The pages would sleep in just enough to make sure they'd be awake during the banquets, and then they'd get up and do some of the extra work their masters had assigned. If they were lucky, they'd get in a snowball fight or something before they had to eat, bathe, and dress for that night's banquet. They'd do their duties, struggle to remain awake during their own suppers, and lastly fall into bed and be sound asleep in moments.

The only break in Inara's schedule was the morning of the fourth day of the seven day celebration, the longest night of the year. She awoke earlier than all of her friends and was very surprised to see a pile of gifts on her desk. Lidia must have dropped them off, knowing that Inara rose before dawn on normal days. Eleven presents were assembled on her desk. She was absolutely stunned, as she opened each one with care. Corin had gotten her a small sharpening stone for her dagger. It wasn't the highest quality, but it was still a very nice one. Seth, Sam, and Benton each gave her a bag of sweets. Evan gave her a book about female Shang warriors. From Jasson, she received a bag of some of the best Yamani tea. It was even better than the type her mother usually had. Yancy gave her a bone with a ribbon tied to it, as well as a bag of sweets, and Asten gave her a clay bead bracelet. Two of the last remaining gifts were from her family. Her mother and father had sent her a beautiful new kimono with a special place to attach a shukusen. The inner robe was white with a brown boarder. The outer robe was cream with tiny tan dragons swirling all over it. There was also a brown obi and a pair of matching brown silk Yamane style slippers. She ran her finger over the whole thing, promising she'd wear it as soon as the holidays were over. The other gift was from all four of her brothers. She reached into the packaging and pulled out a small object wrapped in cloth and a note.

Narie,

Don told us how fascinated you were by his opal. We thought you'd like this stone. It doesn't focus the Gift like an opal, but it's said to be a protection stone that guards against accidents and misfortune, which we thought you might use. It is rumored to have some healing properties. Funny enough, it also has been used to attract love. Maybe it'll bring you some Midwinter luck. You'll have to let us know. Anyway, if it doesn't work, at least the color will compliment your eyes.

We're very proud of you, and we know you'll continue to make us feel that way,

Love your brothers,

Baird, Donalin, Emry, and Kennith

Curious, Inara unwrapped the object slowly. It revealed a small jade stone set in gold on a chain. She smiled at her brothers' idea, and slipped the chain around her neck, noting that the pendent hung just at her heart. She owed them big for this.

The last gift was plainly wrapped and unmarked on the outside. Confused, she quickly tore off the paper. Inside was a wooden box containing three hard balls of different sizes and a piece of paper containing instructions for different arm exercises. Underneath the largest of the balls was another small note.

Inara,

Lady Alanna started this tradition and we thought it only fitting to continue, although you'll always know who the gift is from. Goddess Bless, lady page.

Sirs Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau, Keladry of Masbolle, and Norina of Heath

Inara couldn't help but feel blessed by that point. She had wonderful friends, a wonderful family, and people who truly wanted her to succeed at this. She placed the notes from her brothers and the lady knights inside a special box on her mantle, put away the rest of her gifts and slipped into the hallway to see if any of her friends were awake yet. She wanted to thank them.

Most of the rooms she passed were dark. Their occupants still getting the last few moments of sleep they could. Only one other page's room showed activity. Inara went up to the prince's room and knocked lightly.

"Who is it?" Jasson's voice sounded hallow.

"It's Inara… can I-". She was cut off by the door being jerked open. When she came in, she saw that he appeared very nervous and it seemed that maybe he'd been crying. He let her in and closed the door partially, keeping it open just enough so that they wouldn't be accused of doing something improper. It was the rule that surrounded any female page. "Jasson, are you alright."

"Tomorrow's my birthday, Inara." He stated, as he started to pace back and fourth while she sat on his bed.

"I'm aware of that," she told him. "That still doesn't explain anything."

"Tonight's the longest night of the year. The night the crown prince keeps his vigil in the Chapel of the Ordeal." He paused to see if she understood. Her face clearly said she didn't. "Exactly four years from now, I'll be keeping that vigil. At the first rays of light, I'll step into the Chamber. And on my eighteenth birthday, the chamber might open to the body of a dead prince."

"Jasson, don't think like that."

"But what if that's what happens? It'd be bad enough to die during my Ordeal, but on my birthday? Grandfather keeps telling me it'll be a twice blessed day. But what if it's cursed? What if it's a curse that I was born the day after the longest night of the year?" He stopped pacing

"Where did you get these thoughts? Who filled your mind with nonsense?"

"It won't be nonsense if it's true," he retorted.

"Who told you?" Inara's voice told him she wasn't going to leave with an answer. The prince just met her eyes, pleading, and then looked at his hands. Inara bit her lip, stood on her tip toes and wrapped her arms as best she could around his shoulders. Still, he had to stoop so she could reach him. "You needn't listen to that wretched boy. If anyone is going to fail his ordeal, it's Gilyith. Nothing he says is true. Ever," she told him, hugging him tight. Jasson nodded and pushed her away, to look into her eyes.

"Then nothing he says is true about you either," Jasson told her. She blushed and looked away. "I've noticed how you act right after he calls you a half-breed. You go for a few days without touching a single thing that has connection to the Yamanis."

"Do you think anyone else has noticed?"

"No. But Inara, nothing he says is true. If you want me to believe that, you need to believe it too," Jasson advised. Inara sighed and nodded. Of course he was right. She couldn't claim something was truth and not believe it herself.

"I'll try," she told him honestly.

"That's all I ask. What did you think of the tea?"

"That's the reason I came by," she replied. "I wanted to thank you. I'd like to have a cup before everything starts this morning; I'd be honored if you'd join me."

"It'd be me who'd be honored, lady page," he laughed. "Thank you for the poetry book. Mother's got a fairly extensive library, but I've never seen this particular book before."

"You're welcome," she replied, leading the way back to her room. "Mama said she found a few pieces of poetry Papa wrote to her but never sent when they were younger. She said they weren't very good. So I figured my friends could use all the help they can get; especially a future king."

"I won't be king for a good long time," he assured her. "But maybe I could use the Yamani poets for inspiration." They had reached her room by that point and Inara started the tea.

"Every girl loves to hear herself described as a wild running brook, in a language she can't understand."

"Really?" he asked as Inara took a seat on the floor across from him, her knees hugged to her chest beneath her nightshirt.

"Oh yes. It makes us giddy."

"I shall keep that in mind for when I'm writing to the court ladies."

"Good plan," she giggled and yawned. Maybe she shouldn't have woken up so early. Inara just hopped the other boys would keep her from falling asleep that evening.

The next morning, Asten came in demanding to know if there was any truth in the rumor he'd heard while passing the laundry that night. The only Ordeal ever held on the longest night of the year was that of the prince. If no prince was to have an ordeal that year, the chapel would remain unused. According to some of the maids, Prince Jasson had been spotted pacing back and fourth outside the large doors hours after the pages had gone to bed. Tradition stated that any page who visited the chapel before he was made a squire would fail the big examinations. It took nearly fifteen minutes for Jasson to convince them that all he had done was stand outside the chapel for several hours before he finally realized he'd never make it through the banquet the next night if he didn't get any sleep. And then he made them agree to drop the subject.

The rest of the Midwinter festivities passed just as the first few had. On the last night, of the holiday, Prince Jasson who served his parents, grandparents, uncles, aunt, his siblings and cousins, was exempt from the banquet, as the family decided to celebrate a belated fourteenth birthday for the page in their private wing. He returned to the pages wing just as the others were heading to bed, in much better spirits than he'd been since his real birthday. Inara was pleased to know that Gilyith's vile opinions hadn't affected her friend for too long. She didn't dare do anything that might cause problems during Midwinter, but she wondered if she should consider testing her brothers' gift sometime in the near future. Just maybe, its protection would be enough to help her.

The holidays ended and training resumed; along with it came the biggest blizzard of the winter. It blanketed the entire city, forcing people to have to dig their way out of their homes. Many businesses closed for the day, and the king sent two squads from the army down to help clear the roads so people could get around. Fewer Odocoileus reports came in. It appeared the creatures disliked the weather. Inara didn't blame them. She liked cold better than she liked hot; but she wasn't a huge fan of cold and wet.

"When it's cold, I like to curl up in front of my fire covered in one of the blankets Mama made, and read," she told her friends the next morning. None of them really shared her sentiment.

It seemed that Lord Padraig didn't care much for sitting in front of a fire and reading either. Instead, he canceled their classes that day, saying he'd be taking them out to the royal forest to teach them how to hunt in the snow, when game might be scarce. He gave them one hour to get ready and be assembled in the stable. They wouldn't be taking mounts, but he wanted to see how they thought to prepare their horses as well.

Once all the pages had passed the training master's inspection, he began to place them into four groups. Each group consisted of four older pages and one first year. Two groups would have two fourth years as there were six of them. One group would have two second years, and the last group would have two third years. Inara's group consisted of herself, Seth, a second year named Martin of Tameran, Lorrence, and Gilyith. They were assigned an area that held a small lake.

Seth, as the fourth year, was in charge of their hunting party. He sent Martin and Lorrence ahead of them as they were the best at traveling quietly through the snow, while Inara, Gilyith, and he set up traps and a camp in the area. Lord Padraig had given them until sunset. The group who brought in the most game would be exempt from their two best classes for the remainder of the week. All of the meat the pages collected would be brought to a village deep inside the royal forest that had been cut off from supplies by the storm, which was the only reason Inara didn't find the contest horrifying. She promised herself when she was younger that she wouldn't kill for anything other than food when she heard her father berating some of the village men at Queenscove for hunting for sport and killing half the years new born fawns.

Two hours after Inara and the older two boys had finished making camp, they claimed three squirrels and a hare. Martin and Lorrence finally come back each carrying two rabbits and reporting a herd of twelve deer that were just forging in a clearing just outside their designated zone. The clearing was in a neutral area, meaning the pages could use any method they wished to move game into their assigned space and then kill it. The five quickly got to work devising a plan.

Inara and Gilyith were the group's best shots with a bow and arrow. Seth was the best swordsman of all the pages, and Martin and Lorrence were both good with a spear. The two spearmen would circle around the deer, and then drive them towards the three waiting pages. If they were able to, they'd catch a few as soon as they entered the territory. Hopefully, some of the snare traps would catch a few of the deer's legs. Inara and Gilyith would shoot as soon as the deer were within their range. They had their daggers if necessary to put one out of its misery if they weren't able to kill it with their arrows. Seth would use a bow as well; at least until the deer were close enough for him to use his sword. The plan seemed like a good one. Inara continuously reminded herself that the food was going to people who might starve otherwise, as Martin and Lorrence went off to do their job.

Twenty minutes later, the three archers heard the muffled thundering of hooves in deep snow. All three quickly strung their bows and knocked a waiting arrow. Inara put a second in her teeth. The first deer entered the clearing, and Inara raised her bow, pulling on the string. Beside her Seth and Gilyith copied her motions. Seconds passed as the herd raced toward the waiting pages. One got snared in trap, tripping over its own legs. Inara did her best to ignore its cries for help. On her left, Gilyith loosened his arrow, Seth on her right, copied him only a moment later. The deer were almost on her. She chose her target, an older doe, with a weak limb. She would starve to death in the remaining months, or else be killed by wolves if Inara didn't take her out. The girl loosed her arrow. It lodged itself deep in the deer's neck. The doe fell immediately as Inara put her second arrow to the string. Seth was no longer beside her; the herd had reached the pages. Behind them, she could see Martin stoop beside the trapped deer and cut its throat to end it's agony as he dropped his spear. Lorrence wasn't with him. Inara loosed two more arrows before the herd had disappeared from sight.

"How did we do?" Gilyith asked the fourth year, who knelt beside a fallen deer. He stood up to help the other three count their kills.

"Four," he told them. "Two does, an immature buck, and this guy," Seth said, pointing to large buck he'd been kneeling beside. The tall boy pulled his sword out from where it had lodged itself in the deer's chest. Inara noticed a bruise on her friend's arm. The buck must have kicked him as he got close enough to stab him.

"Five," Martin told them. "Lorrence is back there with a doe he managed to spear. "Permission to help him bring it to camp?" he asked Seth. The older boy nodded and Martin grabbed his spear and ran off to help Lorrence with the deer.

"I think we did pretty well," Inara commented as she helped Seth drag her doe over to the buck. He'd fallen in an area packed with snow which would keep him fresh until they could fetch help carrying it all back to the palace.

"Well? We did great. No one's ever bagged five adult deer with a hunting party of five pages," Seth laughed. As soon as Lorrence and Martin returned with the third doe, Seth and Martin walked two circles around the camp. When the circles closed, Inara saw two flashes of light, a pale blue one for Seth and bright red for Martin. The boys said it was to prevent wolves from tracking the blood to the pages. It would keep them safe. Seth let Martin and Lorrence take a break for a half hour before sending them to Lord Padraig at the stables to explain what had happened and that they needed help. The remaining three started a fire to keep warm while they waited.

"Nice shot, by the way, Inara," Seth told her.

"Thanks," she replied. "But you bagged one too, and so did Gilyith."

"Not on our first shots. I wish I had your patience," he told her. Inara smiled and nodded. Suddenly she realized Gilyith hadn't said a word. She looked around for him and spotted him three yards away, crouching low to the ground, a strung bow in his hand. Inara frowned, searching the area. On the far side of the frozen pond was a large hare, chewing on some of the leaves that had settled on the ice. Seth saw what she was looking at. "Gilyith, leave it be. We've got plenty," Seth called.

"One more couldn't hurt," Gilyith replied quietly. He obviously didn't care to listen. He eased himself onto the frozen terrain, slipping slightly. He stood and tested it carefully. Confident it would hold his weight, he eased toward the hare. Inara saw the danger before he did. Halfway across the pond, the pile of leaves the hare fed on started. It was in those areas that the ice would be weakest, kept warmer by the layer of debris on top of it.

"Marti's Hill! I said leave it alone."

The younger page still didn't listen. Inara fought the urge to close her eyes when he brought his foot down several steps into the leaf pile and the ice creaked. The groan of the frozen liquid was enough to make Gilyith freeze. The hare heard it too, and immediately raced off. Sweating, Gilyith tossed his bow and arrow away from him onto more solid ice, hoping it would make him lighter, as he took a step back. Inara bit her lip as she and Seth raced to the edge of the ice. Seth continued out, carefully, testing each step until he was only a step away from reaching the younger page.

"You need to come back one more foot before I can grab you," he told Gilyith. The younger page nodded grimly, and stepped, reaching his hand out to the older boy. The ice let out a large groan and broke underneath his weight, as Seth jumped back to safety.

Gilyith plunged through the hole in the ice into the freezing water underneath as Inara started to move toward Seth's side. The older boy was leaning over the hole, trying to find the fallen page.

"Seth!" Inara screamed from a few feet away. Beneath the ice under her feet, Gilyith was pounding. She dropped to her knees and began to use the hilt of her sword to frantically beat against the solid surface.

"Back up," Seth commanded; he'd reached her side immediately. He muttered something as she jumped back. The ice where she'd been melted as light blue fire struck it. Seth lunged for the new hole and reached down for the drowning boy. His first attempt missed. On his second, he pulled one of Gilyith's arms up out of the water. Inara lunged forward and grabbed it so the stronger page could get a better grip on the water logged body. Together they pulled him onto ice and scrambled back from the hole to the snow only feet away. Gilyith was unconscious. "Get his outer things off," Seth instructed. "I'm faster then you are. I'm going for help. Try and get him warmer."

He didn't wait for her to argue, but took off running, blowing the horn Lord Padraig had given them in case of emergencies. Inara did as she was told. She pulled Gilyith's freezing outer layers off his body. His lips were blue as she dragged him with all of her strength to the fire they'd constructed, thanking Mithros they'd been allowed to and she wouldn't have to waste time to start one, and knelt beside him. His pulse was faint and he was barely breathing. His eyes were closed tight, but his teeth chattered.

"You can't die like this," she told him. As much as she hated him, she didn't want him dead. She didn't want anyone dead. "Please, Mithros. Please don't let him die." She pleaded, taking his freezing hand. It was colder than it had been before. The fire wasn't helping.

Inara felt a few tears drop as she began to rock back and fourth, one hand holding his, the other clutching the jade pendent her brothers had sent her for Midwinter. "Please. Please, don't die. Come on. You need to warm up. You're too cold. Mithros, please warm him up," she pleaded with him, with herself, with the gods; anything she could to get warmth to pass into his body.

It felt like hours before she felt heat in the hand clutched in her own. She stripped off her mittens to make sure what she felt was real. She hadn't done anything and yet the blue was fading from his face and fingers. His eyes fluttered open.

"Inara?" he whispered through cracked lips. She sobbed and nodded, clutching his hand tighter. "Am I dead?"

She couldn't answer. Someone was prying her hands off his and pulling her away from him. Two other people were putting Gilyith on a stretcher carried between two war horses. She looked up to see it was Seth who had her in his hold. Lorrence and Martin stood behind him. "What did you do?" Seth asked her.

"I- I didn't – I didn't do anything," she told him. He stared at her in disbelief, but shook his head as Lord Padraig who'd come with the men on the horses turned to them.

"He's going to be alright," the training master told them. The four pages nodded, their faces showing relief. "Queenscove?"

"I only tried to keep him warm, my lord. I dragged him to our fire," she explained. Lord Padraig nodded.

"Show me what you caught. I've sent for a few men with sledges to help get the carcasses to the palace." The pages obeyed his order, showing him first the squirrels, rabbits, and the hare, and then the five deer. "As inappropriate as it might be to say this under the circumstances, you did well."

"Martin and Lorrence found the deer and drove them toward us, my lord," Seth explained. His mind was still on the accident.

"Who shot this one?" the training master asked, indicating the doe with the weak leg.

"Inara, my lord," Martin told him.

"Queenscove," he called. Inara came to him. "Excellent shot. Good choice too. She wouldn't have survived the winter, and a weaker animal is going to have more meat and less stringy muscle. She'll provide food for a family for several weeks," he complimented her.

"Thank you, my lord."

"Now, you and Goldenlake have to tell me what happened, alright?"

"Yes, my lord," she replied, still a bit numb. She looked toward Seth, hoping the older boy could tell most of the story as the five of them took a seat by the fire to wait for the men Lord Padraig said were coming. She had a hard time not staring at the spot where Gilyith's cold body had rested. The snow around his imprint was melted, and a bit of water pooled at the bottom. She failed to notice a pile of dead leaves and twigs behind her had turned green.

Author Note:
I hope you all enjoyed. Chapter 5 will be posted next Monday. Please Review, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Oh and in case I have any Jewish readers, Happy Hanukah.

Fateless Wanderer