Fifteen after Sun's Height, 30016 DC

'All right, that's enough,' Tynan called. 'Take a break.'

Emlyn's breath was rasping alarmingly out of his throat; his shoulders and back were drenched with sweat, and it trickled in rivulets down his face, darkening his blonde hair and sticking it to his forehead in a damp mess. He gratefully rammed his sword back into its scabbard and hunched over, leaning his hands on his knees, struggling to regain some composure.

'Walk around,' Ali advised. 'Gentle movement will help you recover. If you work really hard and then stop too suddenly it puts a lot of strain on your body.'

Emlyn glared at her. 'I'm not moving. How come you know so much about it anyway?'

'Argh!' Ali shook her head in despair as she bounced up from her resting place in the shade. 'You people keep forgetting I'm a professional athlete. I may not know a lot, but I do know about looking after my body. Come on.' She tugged at Emlyn's arm.

The young fighter resisted her. 'Tynan?'

'She's right.' Tynan grinned. 'If it's any comfort, Emlyn, it will make you feel better sooner.'

'Fine,' Emlyn grumbled, allowing Ali to guide him across the patch of shade they'd been practising in and back again. 'Anyway, why aren't you this exhausted?' He hesitated and then said nervously, 'Am I really that unfit?'

'No, not at all.' Tynan laughed. 'You're just trying to do more; you're wearing full plate armour, remember! If we'd been practising in winter then it would have been much more equal. But even so, Emlyn, I'm a better swordsman than you, and I was making you do a lot more work than I did.'

'Yeah, you were.' Emlyn, beginning to feel better, remembered that Tynan had barely made an unnecessary move, while he'd been shifting and swinging all the time as he tried to get past the ranger's guard. He glanced down at Ali at his side and grinned. 'Come on, let's see you do it to Ali next.'

'Hey!' Ali elbowed his side, but Emlyn was recovered enough to push her away and stroll over to where Ensa was sitting and leaning back against the ridged bark of the mature oak that was providing their shade. Tynan's puppy was sprawled nearby, sleeping, exhausted from running about in the heat, and Star was watching the animal intently, her whiskers twitching nervously when it stirred.

'Oof! I'm glad that's over!' Emlyn sat down beside the half-orc, stripping off his gauntlets and wiping his forehead. 'We're not going anywhere for an hour or so, are we? I'm not sure that I can get up wearing all this right now.'

'Well, it's probably better to learn now,' Ensa said, sensibly. 'You'll build stamina and fitness better in these tough conditions.'

'As long as you don't overdo it in the heat,' Tynan called over warningly. 'You won't help anything if you get heatstroke. Make sure you have a drink.'

'Uh-huh.' Emlyn groaned. 'I'd love a drink, but I left my pack all the way over there.' He waved a hand vaguely at the pile of baggage lying against the tree trunk a little further round.

Ensa laughed and handed him her waterskin. 'There you go.'

'Thanks.' Emlyn shoved his hair up out of his eyes, tilted his head back and took a long drink. 'You can have some of mine later.'

'We might get a chance to fill them up anyway.' Ensa took the waterskin back and tilted it for Star to lap. 'Emlyn, is it always this hot this far south?'

'Huh?' Emlyn, who had lain down and shut his eyes, opened one again, squinting up into the glare of dappled sunlight coming through the leaves above him. 'Only in summer. And not always even then.'

'I had to pick a hot year, then.' Ensa sighed. 'I'm not too good in the heat.'

'Why do you always wear that huge old wool robe, then?' Emlyn asked. 'You'd be cooller if you cut down.'

'Yes, but if you'd ever seen a half-orc with sunburn you'd know that I absolutely have to cover up,' Ensa told him. 'Orcish skin is adapted for darkness. So is dwarvish, actually, although I don't think that they have such big problems.'

'Really?'

'Yes. Same reason I can see in the dark but I have dreadful problems with glare in my eyes in this blazing sunshine. Because both orcs and dwarves originated under the Shroud of Night before Tiniel came to Iluen.' She shrugged. 'I don't like being half-orc, but you've got to admit it's interesting.'

'I didn't realise orcs were so old.'

'They didn't keep written records like the dwarves did, so it's hard to tell when they originated, but there're mentions in dwarf chronicles of them being observed way back.' Ensa wriggled her shoulders a little, trying to find a more comfortable position against the uneven surface of the tree behind her, and added, 'It's said that the Black Lord created them before his siblings saw his evil heart, but the race he made were so ugly that none of the Eleven would help the Nameless One finish them except Amarill, who took pity on the poor misshapen creatures and against her better judgement gave them life. So orcs aren't children of Arcaren; but they're not all evil, because even inside the most vicious, bloodthirsty individual is a fragment of the breath of Amarill.'

Ali, who had wandered over to listen, snorted. 'Yes, but it's not true, is it? It's just a story.'

Ensa asked peaceably, 'Why shouldn't it be true?'

'Because the gods aren't really real, are they?' Ali said, dismissively. 'They're tales for children too.'

'Ali, don't be stupid!' Emlyn demanded angrily, forgetting the awkward drag of his armour as he sat bolt upright, frowning. 'I've met a true cleric; they exist, they have existed throughout history. Where do you think they get their power from?'

'It's just magic,' Ali argued. 'I've seen Ensa there cast spells, but she doesn't think she's blessed by a god. Anyway, how many good orcs have you ever met?'

'I've known a few,' Tynan intervened, calmly. 'I don't think you're going to convince any of us that the gods don't exist, Ali.'

'Oh come on!' The girl rolled her eyes. 'When was the last time you had a prayer answered?'

Emlyn rolled over onto his front and propped himself up on his elbows. The ground in front of him was sparsely covered with grass, but the soil was dry and gritty. He rolled a little piece between his fingers until it disintegrated. He had thought like that sometimes, but in the end… well, you didn't really expect for a god to notice you personally, did you? But if they didn't, then who did they notice?

'Think of this, Ali,' Ensa said. 'In all the countries, all the lands on Iluen, if the gods were made up you'd expect people to have made up different gods, yes? But everywhere on Iluen, even reports that we've had from the few people who've managed to make it to lands far beyond the sea and come home to tell the story, they have the same gods. They use different titles for them - I read a copy of one ship's log where they recorded meeting a tribe who worshipped a deity they called the Worldmother; but when the ship's captain asked them what was the real name of this goddess, they said 'Amarill'. Doesn't that seem unlikely? Unless the gods really are real, which would explain how their names and identities can be found in such disparate cultures and places.'

'Huh.' Ali looked unconvinced, and Tynan broke up the discussion.

'Come on, Ali, Emlyn's right. It's your turn to learn something about how to use that sword.'

'Great!' Ali spun around, turning her back on Ensa and followed the ranger out into the centre of the circular patch of shade.

'Hey!' Emlyn called after her, frowning at her rudeness, but Ensa shook her head.

'Leave it. I don't think she likes being wrong.'

'Everyone's wrong sometimes. She doesn't have to behave like that!'

Star squealed in agreement, and Ensa stroked the rat soothingly with one finger as she said, 'Of course not, but it's not worth arguing over. It'd upset Tynan, for one.'

'Tynan likes people to get along, but he'd understand why I need to make Ali see how badly she's behaving,' Emlyn said, defensively. 'He wouldn't not do what's right for the sake of peace and quiet.'

Ensa looked at him for a minute with her pale eyes, glanced across at where Tynan was correcting Ali's stance, and then said, 'Emlyn, how long have you known Tynan?'

'Nearly all my life!' Emlyn dragged himself up again from his prone position, hovering between incredulity and anger. 'What's this about, Ensa? Don't you like Tynan?'

'I think he's a really caring person,' Ensa said, carefully. 'But there's something about him that I can't make out. I can't think what we're all doing here, for instance.'

'He's a really good man!' Emlyn insisted. 'He's always done right by me.'

'Oh, me too. It's just…' Ensa trailed off, looked at Emlyn and changed what she was going to say. 'It's just… not knowing things makes me uncomfortable.' She grinned. 'I get really itchy and I just have to ask… wonder where I get that from?' She looked thoughtful.

Emlyn was sidetracked. 'Ensa, you're actually really interested in orcs and your heritage, aren't you?'

Ensa blinked. Her craggy face never betrayed much emotion, but Star wriggled and squealed uncomfortably and Emlyn guessed that she was picking that up from her mistress. He blushed. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean… that was tactless.'

Ensa managed a weak smile, 'No, it's all right. I once did a bunch of research into orc history. I mean, I hate being an orc - I'm not an orc - I've never had anything but misery from it. I just wondered if there was anything else there, anything I could maybe be just a little bit proud of.'

'And?'

'No.' She shrugged. 'Nothing. Seems like all the orcs in history were just like the ones I knew. I mean, there are a few orcs who aren't evil, but they never seem to do anything much, just try to live in peace. I guess that's not such a bad aim.'

'Sounds a little boring, though.' Emlyn settled back down. That would have been the life he'd have been stuck with, if - well, if life had gone well for him. Farming, in peace and quiet. But he'd never been much good at it. And now - he glanced across at where Tynan was now teaching Ali a series of basic strokes and smiled - now he was learning to wield a blade; to fight alongside his friends…

A thought struck him. 'Where's Shadow?'

Ensa nodded her head backwards at the tree. 'Behind. I think I upset him earlier.'

Emlyn's mouth dropped open. 'You upset Shadow? He can get upset?'

Ensa gave a little snorting laugh. 'Emlyn! You talk about him like he's not human!'

'He's not.'

'Emlyn! That's not what I meant, and you know it.'

'All right.' Emlyn sighed. 'But it does seem like he doesn't have any feelings. He just seems to stand there with that blank look on his face and that kind of tone in his voice that means he's laughing at me and despising me.' He looked back over at Tynan and Ali as the ranger knocked the girl's sword aside with his own blade and followed up with a thrust that he pulled up just short of touching the young acrobat. Then he lowered his blade and began showing Ali how she could have countered the stroke.

Ensa, tactfully changing the subject, followed his gaze and said, 'She's not nearly as good as you, you know.'

'Huh?' Emlyn, in the part of his mind where he'd been paying attention to the combatants, had thought that Ali was doing fairly well, considering it was her first attempt. Tynan was vastly the better swordsman, of course, but the girl's agility and balance were allowing her to manage the short blade with a reasonable level of dexterity.

'Really. I'm not an expert, of course, but you looked a lot better.'

Emlyn laughed dismissively. 'I know barely anything yet.'

'I know.' Ensa laughed too. 'Maybe you're a natural.'

The boy, who was now lying on his stomach on the hearthrug, laughed. One of the men, huddled close by to catch the heat of the fire, nudged him with his foot, 'Quiet, lad, we're listening,' but the bard had already stopped. He looked down at the boy.

'What's so funny, youngster?'

The boy rolled his eyes and sat up, crossing his legs, so that the warm air from the flames beat against his back. He said, 'Of course Emlyn's a natural with a sword. He's the hero!'

The bard's eyes creased up with amusement. 'Maybe you're right. Wouldn't it be much of a story if the hero couldn't fight?'

'Of course not!' The boy was dismissive. He glanced around the quiet, shadowy inn, realised that everyone in the room was listening to him and sat up a little straighter as he explained authoritatively, 'If you don't have battles and monsters and things it's no good as a quest.'

'But Emlyn hasn't got a quest,' the bard pointed out. He spoke seriously, but a little quirk at the corner of his mouth suggested laughter.

'Yes, but he will have when he's finished his training,' the boy said positively. 'All heroes have quests. Those are the best kind of stories.'

'But would it be the best kind of story if you already know what's going to happen?' the bard asked. 'If it's just like the ones you've heard before?'

The boy looked at him suspiciously as a gust of icy wind down the chimney puffed smoke across the room. The child coughed, wrinkled his nose and said, 'Do you mean that interesting heroic stuff doesn't happen in this story?'

Old Tobin, who had been listening to the bard with as much attention as anyone else, suddenly laughed. His face, which had been creased and thoughtful as though he was groping after things he'd half forgotten, cleared. 'I think that some quite small things are going to happen, lad.' He ruffled the boy's hair. 'Things as small as Emlyn bickering with Ali or Tynan looking after a disobedient puppy; or you fighting with your sisters or your mother cooking your dinner.' The little old man looked up at the bard, his white beard jutting out, and said deliberately, 'Or an entertainment on a winter night.'

The bard smiled at him, his eyes dancing, and said, 'You could well be right. You could well be right.'

The boy scuffed his shoe across a huge, worn flagstone and said, 'But I wanted a heroic story. I was sure Emlyn would turn out to be a great knight.'

The bard grinned. 'Maybe he will.'

'Will he?' the child demanded.

'I can't tell you that.' The bard wagged a half-mocking reproving finger, the huge roll of his belly wobbling as he moved. 'You have to listen to the story to find that out.'

'But nothing is happening in the story,' the boy complained. 'They're just lazing around in the summer sun.' He glanced up reflexively at one of the tightly shuttered windows and shuddered.

'Oh?' The bard raised his eyebrows. 'You want a winter story now? I could tell you one, if you liked. I could tell you a story called Winter In The Wolf Country.'

'Does it have to do with Emlyn and the others?' the boy asked. 'I hate leaving a story half-finished.'

The bard smiled again, the firelight glinting in his eyes and giving him an impish expression. 'Maybe it does, and maybe it never will.'

The boy frowned. 'I don't understand. You're not making sense!'

'Does a story have to make sense? What matters is what you get from it.'

'Stop!' The boy put his hands over his ears. 'You're confusing me! Just tell the story.'