Sometimes my father would show something akin to gratitude for my hard work. On the days that I fell to the ground in the purest exhaustion, lips cracked and bleeding from frozen winds, he would pat my head gently. Looking up through my ragged bangs I would meet his eyes with my mine, and though his were always cold and empty, his smile held meaning. He was proud of his slave.

My hatred for him grew the blackest in those moments.

Two

"Daughter..?" Sarj echoed, staring hard into my eyes. I nodded slowly as I tried with every ounce of my will to pull myself back together.

"Remove your outer furs, girl." Arrus demanded, far faster to accept the truth than his companion. I managed to obey with some dignity, and layer after layer, I removed all of my furs and extra tunics until only the bottom two remained. The worn wool pants and shirts were all I was permitted to wear as father disagreed with the maid's idea that I should dress as a lady should. I did not much complain. Dresses were too inconvenient for movement.

"She is slighter than I originally believed… The furs tell an impressive lie." Arrus commented with some disappointment. His face would have held no less expression than if he had been commenting on the color of the sky and yet his words pricked my already raw emotions.

"Excuse me, sir knight, but I am of greater strength than you could ever imagine by simply observing." I explained to him coolly. I tried with all my might to keep the insult from my voice. This was a knight, a prince, and no amount of wounded pride could allow for disrespect lest I risk my life.

"Is that so, farm maiden?" He asked mildly as one black eyebrow lifted slightly. The corner of his mouth twitched as he spoke. Did I dare believe that the stoic prince could feel such an emotion as amusement?

"It is so." I promised, finding his calm manner an anchor to which I could hold myself grounded. So long as this man was still calm perhaps my life was not quite as forfeit as I feared.

"Can you prove this?"

"Of course I can." I almost scoffed at him, riding on a strange sort of high left over from the attack of emotions I had not felt in years. "The very chairs in which you are seated were carved and built by my own two hands. The fields of Dragon's Heart are misted every day by no other than myself, their precious nectar kept flowing through the work of my back alone. I am the only person on this farm to do any true work, and I do it with more skill and determination than any other you might compare me to."

I was not bragging, per say. I felt no pride for the life I lived. Still, I felt in me a deep need to impress these men so long as there was even the most miniscule chance that I might still be saved. The need boiled in my gut, digging sharp claws of anxiety into my heart. I did not much like feeling this way, but could do little to quench its increasing strength. These men represented my first and only chance to rid myself of this frigid place.

Father shifted in his seat, his black eyes boring into the side of my face. He did not much like being made to look like a slave driver in front of these men regardless of the truth behind it. His anger could be seen only in the white knuckled, shaking grip with which he held his utensils and the murderous glare he settled upon me.

"That is a bit exaggerated, Rhynne." He began slowly, "You do half as much work as I do myself. You should not-"

"Lying to the king's guard is a punishable offense, father." I interrupted. My voice did not increase in volume, nor was its tone harsh, but I had little doubt that my black hatred of him dripped from every word. In the last several moments my fear had begun to ebb and was starting to be replaced with morbid acceptance. If I were to die today from father's anger I would die without regrets.

"Oh-ho! I like'er, Arrus!" Sarj exclaimed, his laughter echoing throughout the entire house. In his struggle to regain his composure he clapped me on the shoulder again. Without the layers to protect me from the blow I was nearly thrown entirely off of my feet and noted dully that if I lived until morning I would be black and blue. It was all I could do not to cry out, managing instead to rein it in to a small wince.

"She has a flaw, Sarj. She is a woman, and the king wants only men for his armies. The Ugran are particularly fond of our females, as you know." Arrus cut into his companion's mirth. The larger man was instantly subdued.

"Aye… This is troublesome. Our king will not be pleased that we lost Gorren and Ram to the mountain for nothing." He rumbled, deep in thought. A bit of my previous despair surfaced again as my window of opportunity looked as if it were shrinking once again.

"I can pass for a man. You believed wholly that I was one without any help from me, and you are the king's guard. How could a simple soldier know any the wiser?" I asked, my voice growing louder. My ability to suppress the desperation in my heart was slowly coming undone.

Already I had insulted my father twice in my attempt to persuade these men. I had dared injure his second most prized possession; his pride. To be left behind was a greater danger than these men could ever understand. The promise in his black eyes alone as father regarded me from across the table made it very clear that I would face far worse than starvation this time. It would be a miracle if I saw my twenty-first birthday.

"She speaks truth. Even now in 'er simple garb she is only a woman to my eyes because I know it to be true. Even 'er voice is rich and unfeminine." Sarj said slowly with the expression of a man deep in thought. One hand lifted to twirl around his long thawed mustache.

"She is my daughter!" Father suddenly burst out. The fact that his wishes were being ignored along with my insults had finally become too much for his temper. "You cannot have her for your army!"

"You, sir, are in no position to make that decision. The king's word is law, and he has told us to fetch the mountain farmer's child and bring them to camp. He did not expressly say that the child should be of a specific gender." Arrus spoke frostily. His hand moved deliberately to rest on his sword.

I failed to comprehend Arrus' words at first, and then their meaning slowly sank in. He meant to take me away with him. He meant to take me away with them. Suddenly the room was hotter than I could stand, something my body was far from used to. My manic excitement from before came crashing into me again, and I hardly followed what words were being spoken next. The sound of my name finally brought my thoughts back to reality. With a small start I realized that Arrus had stood and pulled his sword partially from his sheath.

"…Rhynne is not of the material to be a soldier!" My father was blustering, clearly grasping at straws now. He had stood, and had at some point armed himself with the carving knife that had previously been protruding from the uneaten fox. "She will die in the first wave."

"We are not responsible for that. We only come to follow orders." Came the prince's smooth reply.

"Now calm down, man!" Sarj boomed. He had yet to lift himself from his seat.

"I will not allow you to have her, and I will not be calm!" Father seethed, spitting in his fury. "My fields will die! My livelihood will fall to ruin!"

"You seem quite fit enough to tend your own fields, farmer. If I'm not mistaken either you own quite the wealth because of your crops." Arrus' voice remained level even as he took a step back. My father had begun brandishing the knife and all but foaming at the mouth.

"I hardly believe you will starve for one lost harvest." He finished.

"This is an outrage!" My father roared. "She is a woman! The king will surely learn of her and have her killed for defying his command! I will save him the trouble rather than bear the shame her discovery would bring to my home!"

I had never seen my father go so mad before; not even on the morning he had found half of the crop gone. I quaked at the strength of the rage booming behind his voice, fear rendering me paralyzed. I watched in muted horror as father brandished his blade, his blazing eyes locked onto me. I knew then that the day I would die had come, and for all my fear I held none for that knowledge as it crept upon me. Somehow, the realization calmed me instead. All of time seemed to slow to a crawl as I pondered that fact. Death had never been something I feared, it seemed, only the means in which I would meet its embrace. For years I had allowed this man to rule me as he would a dog. An animal. Yet now that his abuse had come to a violent and sudden head my terror simply was not there. Closing my eyes, I took in a deep breath and released a silent prayer that I would not feel the sting of his blade.

The clang of metal kissing metal had my eyes open again almost immediately. Arrus, far better trained in combat than my aging father could ever be, had stepped gracefully in front of me and parried the blow with his sword. Father stumbled back, regrouped. Eyes hardening with determination he moved to go around the young prince. His sole attentions were on me; my death. The prince followed him deftly, always keeping himself between me and the kitchen knife wielded against me. The one sided battle went on for several long minutes, with my father growing more and more frenzied.

After some time a rough hand grasped my elbow. Gasping, I turned to find Sarj smiling at me with a spark in his eye.

"My prince can handle himself. You should start putting yer furs and the like back on, girl. We've a lot of travelin' t'do." He whispered encouragingly. Even his whisper was louder than should be possible.

"She goes nowhere! Give her back to-agh..!"

The sudden stop in father's cry caused me to turn my head just in time to see the man I had called father for twenty years slide off of the prince's sword. Uncomprehending, I stared at his slack figure, kitchen knife still clutched tightly in his hand. He was dead, having stepped too far forward in his blind temper and piercing himself through the heart and lung.

"He could not be contained any longer. I'm sorry." Arrus apologized softly.

Something wet landed on my cheek as I stared wide-eyed at the corpse before me. It was quickly followed be more warm wetness as my vision became blurry. Confused, I brought my hand to my face and rubbed my eyes. It came back damp, and my vision almost immediately blurred again as more tears fell.

"I gave him every chance to stop, Rhynne…" He repeated, touching his index and middle finger to my hand. I did not even acknowledge him, so transfixed was I on the body and my unwanted tears.

Something was stirring inside of me. Something foreign to me. It welled up from deep in my soul, bubbling to the surface as wretched sobs wracked my body. Frightened at its intensity I could do nothing to stop it as it ripped through my insides. The tears came and came, stealing away my strength with them until I had none left to stand anymore. On my hands and knees I worked desperately to quell the tides of emotion striking me but failed with every attempt. Within a few minutes I simply stopped trying and allowed the storm to rage. Twenty years I had lived under that man's roof, shoving my grief away and locking it into a tight box. For ten of those twenty I had toiled on his farm for him, raising those bastardly plants to keep his pockets lined with the gold he loved more than anything else. Now, finally, he was finished. All of the tears I had held back now found the exit they wished for. I was free, fully and truly free.

I had no idea what to do about it.

Sometime later the rivers finally ebbed leaving my eyes swollen and sore. With their absence came some understanding of the emotions rolling around my innards. Joy, hope, fear, longing to be rid of this house; these fought over each other for the title of most prominent. Nowhere among them did I find a single bit of grief over my father's death. I did feel that I might vomit for crying so hard, though. Instead I forced myself up from the floor and stood. If I swayed in place the men standing before me did not make comment of it. Facing them both I bowed as deeply as I could.

"Thank you." I enthused, my whole heart in those two words, and continued, "I will follow you into whatever battle that lay before us. I will neither complain, nor allow myself to be lacking in my dedication towards becoming a worthy warrior. Also…I will not break quite so fantastically again…"

As I finished I let my sheepishness show on my face. Controlling my expression at all times was not always the wisest decision, I had grown to understand.

"You have known of true hardship…" Sarj said gently, "Let us be gone of this mad house and never return. Gather yer things girl. There is much plannin' t'be done on the way back to the kingdom, and a mountain to travel down in the meantime."

"Don't worry about the house, Rhynne. I shall make good use of your father's gold, and place three fourths of it away for you if you ever choose to return." The maid said from the kitchen doorway. She did not even look at the corpse still bleeding on the floor. Her name was Marigold, I suddenly recalled. We had not been allowed to speak to each other.

"Thank you Marigold. You may have the three fourths, though, and leave me one. I hardly have use for that much wealth. You will do it more justice, I believe entirely."

"Truly? You would be so generous to me?" The woman seemed at once deeply shocked and touched at my gesture.

"Truly." I promised, "The majority is yours. Spend it more wisely than that man did."

He was my father no longer.

Marigold the maid cried out in joy and crushed me to her bosom. I let her, experiencing another first. Hugs were, for very obvious reasons, not something shared in that house.

"I will." She promised, then hustled away to gather soup and water for cleaning up the mess of the man on the floor.

"Dress, girl, dress!" Sarj reminded me, laughing in his overbearing way. I obeyed, deftly pulling on every layer and wrapping the furs securely.

"There are more in that man's room, should you want them." I offered the knights, glad to be able to give them something in return for the great service they had paid me that day. They took the thick hides gratefully, allowing me to wrap them around their metal laden shoulders with deft hands.

"Is there anything you would gather before we leave?" Arrus asked.

"None except food for the journey." I answered, shaking my head. "I have nothing but memories to be forgotten and the cloth on my back."

"Very well, we leave the moment there is food readied."

"I'll gather it. If you two do not mind fetching your mules now, I should be done by the time you return to the door."

The men nodded in agreement and left without another word. The sound of the heavy front door closing behind them sent a thrill down my spine. The time was almost here.

Marigold returned as I placed the last wedge of goat cheese in the sack I had been preparing. She carried with her a mop and bucket of sudsy water. Tying the food bag I placed it on the table and moved to help her begin cleaning up the bloody floor.

"No." She stopped me, "This is my pleasure to take care of. The master paid many a visit to my bedchambers."

Unsurprised by this, I nodded and dropped the rag I had grabbed back into the bucket. That he would rape his maid was completely in his demanding nature. Knowing that it had happened without my notice, however, made me incredible sad.

"He cannot hurt any else." I promised, knowing that the damage had already been done long ago.

A sharp rap on the door made me jump. The knights were done fetching their mounts. It was time to go.

Gathering my furs to me more snugly, I heaved the large bag of food over one shoulder and grasped Marigold's forearm with my free hand. She returned the gesture. Such was the sign of those that called themselves brethren. We were sisters, she and I. We would be fine, now.

Sucking in a deep breath and letting it whistle out through my teeth, I pulled open the front door of that house for the last time and stepped out into the unforgiving cold of the mountain.