-a/n- Hello, hello! Sorry for the delay. I actually started writing this chapter immediately after I posted the last one. Then, unfortunately my lovely puppy fell ill. He got better, then worse, and then even more worse until it got to the point where we thought we might lose him :( Obviously at this point I was not in the mood for writing anything. 3 operations later he's bounced back to health so quickly we don't know what's hit us :D Thankfully he's now put on lots of weight and is back to creating havoc (got sent out of his puppy class this week for being too naughty!)

Anyway, for the last two weeks I've been doing work experience, first at a cat rescue centre and now at an equestrian centre, both of which are great fun, but exhausting, leaving me little time to write.

A quick point - in this chapter I've taken Douglass of Veldine to be Raoul's squire. I know that it could've been Sacherell of Wellam, but I couldn't actually find anywhere official on the web to confirm which one it was. What I did find however is some quasi-canon that said that in between the Alanna books and seeing Douglass as a knight protector to Maura, he actually did some information gathering for George! Interesting huh...so I decided to use him instead of Sacherell.

I shall let you read the chapter now, if you've actually bothered to read this long, rambling note! Thanks for all the reviews for last chapter. Reviewers = my FAVOURITE PEOPLE!

I hope you're loving summer '10 ;D

Confusedknight xxx

There were tense discussions about what should be done. The people living in the area were their responsibility, under their protection, but then so too reasoned Wyldon, were the men of the Own. Riding out to meet the enemy whose numbers they had no idea about, in the dark, could be nothing short of suicide.

'What about sending out a small scouting party?' suggested Kel when the debate lulled. 'With mages to light the way. If the enemy are too great in number then they remain strictly observatory, if it is merely renegade raiding parties then they can save any remaining civilians.'

General Vanget blinked rather owlishly, considering Kel. He then looked to Raoul.

'I think it's the best plan we've got.' When Vanget turned to Wyldon, Raoul gave Kel the smallest of winks.

Lord Wyldon nodded curtly. 'Two squads ought to do it.'

'We'll ride out through that hunting track that winds to Riversedge-'

'You are not going anywhere,' pointed out the General.

'They're my men,' argued Raoul. 'If it's going to be dangerous-'

'Then I will not risk you for the sake of a couple of villagers,' said Vanget firmly. 'When the war truly hits then I'll need you to prevent thousand-strong armies from pillaging whole Fiefs.'

'So I'm indispensable,' growled Raoul, 'But two of my squads aren't.'

'No,' replied Vanget curtly, 'In this case it is the villagers who're the dispensable ones. I'm sorry Raoul, but the likelihood is that they're mostly dead anyway.'

'Well all the same,' said Flyndan, scowling, 'We're not in the habit of leaving people at the hands of the barbarians, even if they are, uh, dispensable commoners.'

Flyndan, who was common-born himself, looked to Raoul who nodded and spoke; 'Volorin and Quasim's.' Flyn then hurried away to rouse the two squads.

'Kel, Lerant, start saddling mounts.' Raoul instructed.

'Jesslaw go with them.' Lord Wyldon ordered.

'Yes, my Lord', Owen answered, unable to stifle a yawn. 'Right away, Sir.'

Kel picked out the correct horses and soon the three of them were hefting saddles and tightening girths and buckles with deft fingers. The night was cold but by the time the men arrived, alert and ready for duty in their mail and uniforms, Kel had worked up a slight sweat.

Kel handed Flyn his massive gelding and held the stirrup whilst Flyn mounted up. She checked everything one more time.

'Gods bless,' Kel told the serious man, giving him a small salute with her sword.

Flyn looked amused that she was standing in her nightshirt and yet had her weapon. 'Do you sleep with that thing Squire?' he inquired, eyebrows raised.

'Wouldn't you like to know?' Kel said tiredly. A couple of seconds later she realised how her off-hand comment had come out. Flyndan raised his eyebrows again. Fighting not to blush, Kel met his gaze.

'Maybe I'll just ask Dom,' he said casually with a small smirk.

Kel's mouth fell open. Flyn let out a bark of laughter. 'Let's go,' he called, and twenty mounts trotted forward and out through the gates of Giantkiller.

Once she'd got over her initial shock, she had to smile. It was the first time that Captain Flyndan Whiteford had bantered with her, treated her like one of the men.

She stood, ignoring the cold for a couple of minutes.

'Breeches gone out of fashion?' inquired Raoul in an amused tone, surveying their attire.

'Couldn't find them, my Lord,' said Owen cheerily. 'At least it's not snowing!' he wiggled his muddy feet.

'Well you can go and get warm,' said Raoul, 'Not much to be done till Flyn gets back.'

'Lord Cavall?' inquired Owen.

'Wyldon's talking to Vanget, he asked me to relay the message.'

Owen bowed shortly and hurried away, arms wrapped around himself.

'Well spoken earlier,' said Raoul. 'I thought if the idea came from you then Vanget might be distracted enough to let us go.' He sighed. 'I hate waiting.'

They'd walked to Kel's barracks. 'Night Kel.'

'Sir.' Kel watched her knight-master stride away.

She hurried inside and dressed warmly, pulling on breeches, two pairs of socks, fleece-lined boots, an under-shirt, over-shirt, woollen jumper and a fleece-lined jerkin. She pulled her hair back into a loose but tidy plait and strapped on Courage's sheath around her small waist.

She tracked down Raoul, who was waiting on Giantkiller's wall, staring out into the darkness. She perched next to the huge knight.

'I hate waiting too.'

The air around them gradually seemed to thin, the cloying darkness lifting as the sun peeped up over the horizon. Squire and knight-master took this as a signal to move from their uncomfortable positions and stretch the kinks out of their spines. Kel rubbed her fingers briskly, trying to ease some warmth into the frozen digits.

They were about to go and rouse the rest of the King's Own, so that when it was properly light they could ride out and assess the damage, when Kel spied movements in the trees. She tugged Raoul's arm, pointing silently. As the pair watched an assortment of people moved out from the trees' shelter. Men, women, horses, children and soldiers made their way wearily towards the fort.

'That's Flyn,' said Raoul, squinting through the grey morning's light. 'Quick, run and get Wyldon and Vanget,' he instructed Kel.

Doing as she was told, Kel hared off to the barracks. Skidding round a corner she found herself face to fact with both commanders and had to make a real effort not to bump into them.

'Captain Whiteford's returned, seemingly with surviving villagers.'

Two men were hurriedly lifting the bars so that they could open the large gates. Raoul was still up on the wall, watching to see how many of his men had returned.

As they filed in through the gate, Kel herself counted twenty blue and silver uniforms and heaved a sigh of relief. Of the villagers there were about sixty, some riding farm ponies, others strung on makeshift-stretchers, all milling around, talking, wailing, comforting each other. Kel was casting around for any faces that she recognised, but it was impossible to see everyone through the crowd.

Flyndan was fighting his way over.

'We found them half-way here,' he shook his head in amazement. 'Fought the raiders all the way. When we showed up they scarpered, not much of an invading force,' he shook his head. 'About forty presumed dead, and that's only from Goatstrack, we'll have to send out proper scout parties to other villages around.'

Wyldon nodded in agreement, as Raoul climbed down from the walls, 'We'll get going once this is sorted. Who's in charge of them?'

'No one official,' replied Flyn, 'Though there was a woman who seemed to have been leading the escape before we pitched up.'

'Find her,' commanded Vanget.

When Flyndan appeared several minutes later with the refugees' leader, Kel felt her breath catch in her throat. Apart from being thinner, with more grey in her hair and a pinched expression on her face, Fanche Weir matched Kel's hazy, seven year old memory exactly.

Her sensible clothing was torn and sooty and her hands, the hands that Kel remembered being soft and yet firm from kneading bread were bloody and clutching a hunting spear marred by blood.

'Fanche?' Kel said before she could stop herself. Lined grey eyes honed in on Kel.

'Kel?' Raoul asked Kel, confused that his squire seemed to recognise the woman standing before them.

As Raoul spoke, a light of recognition and understanding dawned in Fanche's eyes.

'Kel,' she rasped. 'My Kel, after all this time?'

Kel nodded mutely, her throat too tight to speak.

'Come 'ere,' said Fanche roughly, as was the northern way.

Kel stumbled forward and was pulled tightly into an embrace. Even through the powerful smoky aroma that lingered on Fanche's woollen outfit, Kel could detect the sweet smell of bread that usually pervaded the Weir household. Fanche was smoothing the back of Kel's head.

'What is the meaning of this?' spluttered Vanget, apparently completely lost as to why a squire would be hugging a common villager.

Kel gently extracted herself from Fanche's embrace but kept a comforting grip on the shaking woman's arm.

'My lords,' she introduced, 'Fanche Weir of Goastrack village.'

'Are you the headwoman?' inquired Vanget.

'I am...I was the miller's wife.' Fanche corrected herself after a painful silence in which Kel squeezed her arm supportively. 'But I suppose, seeings how someone needs ta do it, yes, I'll speak for the village.'

'Is this all of you?' Kel almost winced at how blunt the question was.

'Allus left,' despite her grief, Fanche glared defiantly up at the brown-haired General.

'And what state did you leave your village in?'

'Twas all but burned to the ground.'

'Then you will remain under the protection of this fort until we can relocate you,' said Vanget haughtily. 'You will organise your people into that barrack there,' he pointed to Kel's lonely woman's barrack. 'We need to clear this area so that the men can ride out.'

'I'm going to find a mage who can contact nearby fiefdoms, see if we can't ship this lot off somewhere more convenient.' As he walked away, Fanche stared after him, not bothering to hide the hatred in her eyes.

'Bloody nobles,' she muttered. 'Not convenient, eh? We know it's not bloody convenient, losing our homes and livelihoods in the middle of tha night...losing our family.'

'Fanche...' Kel's voice was gentle.

'Geran's dead too.' Said Fanche abruptly, harshly, as though saying it quickly made it less painful. 'And Fern, gutted as she tried ta save her little ones.'

'Layla?' asked Kel tentatively.

'She be alright I hope, moved away she did, four years back. Married a silver trader.'

'Oh good,' said Kel feebly. Sorrow filled her at the thought of soldiers slaughtering the family that had been so good to her. She couldn't help but wonder that maybe if she'd done something different...trained them more...

'Still, moping after the dead don't bring 'em back. You'll be telling me your story later missy, I got this here rabble to be sorting,' and squaring her shoulders she hustled back into the crowd, giving orders.

Kel watched her go, feeling upset.

'She's in shock,' said Wyldon quietly. 'It'll sink in eventually.'

'How'd you know her?' asked Raoul softly, moving to stand beside Kel as she watched the villagers.

'Her son,' Kel inhaled sharply, feeling the sting of grief at Geran's passing, 'Found me in the forest, maybe a day or so after I ran...' she trailed off. Raoul had heard her story before, but Wyldon hadn't. 'They were the family I stayed with for a while.'

Words couldn't really sum up all that Fanche had done towards healing Kel. How she'd let a quiet waif-like girl drift around her home until Kel was strong enough to talk again, to start rebuilding her life. Kel had often wondered what would've happened if she had been found by Raoul and his men; if she'd been taken to an infirmary and physically healed, left as a shell of the girl who'd been there before.

Now it looked like it was Fanche who needed the healing.

'Kel, we need to get riding and it's going to take nearly the whole company to spread out, assess the damage and flush out any remaining Scanrans. Can I trust you to stay here and organise arrangements for these refugees? You know how to talk to them and I really think they'll listen to you.'

Kel met Raoul's dark eyes and nodded, showing him that she understood that rather than just being left behind, that this was an important task even though it would be scorned by others.

Within half an hour, all but the twenty men who'd ridden out during the night had left Giantkiller, leaving Kel with her daunting task. She climbed halfway up one of the ladders pushed against the wall and shouted for the villagers' attentions.

'So I'm Kel, Squire Kel actually, and I'm to find you all a place to stay, just for now anyway. So if-'

'Y're just a lass, we not good enough for-'

'Shut it Daan,' said Fanche sharply. 'Kel's a family friend. She helped us before, when those raiders came. Now let her do her job.'

Kel sent a grateful look at Fanche because once the miller's wife had spoken, apart from a few mutterings, no one outwardly challenged her authority again. She had the horses un-tacked and stabled with those of the Own. She moved the families into the woman's barracks first, to ensure that they had beds. Kel unpacked some of the canvas company-issue tents and spread them on the floor in-between beds to create sleeping space. She moved her own possessions to Raoul's office to create another bed-space, thinking that she could always set up a pallet on the floor. The wounded were directed towards the infirmary and Kel spoke to the healer about temporarily moving some of the beds to another barracks. She set some of the younger men to fetching spare blankets from the supply cupboard and distributing them amongst the refugees.

Eventually, everyone had a place to at least lie down, if not move around very much. It was a start at least. Kel prayed that she wouldn't be assigned the task of sorting out food for the fifty-eight refugees.

She was taking a break from overseeing, and was leaning against the woman's barracks when Fanche found her.

'Squire Kel, eh?' she commented, her heavy-lidded eyes fixed on Kel's face, which was now at a higher level than her own.

Kel nodded, searching for her voice, thinking that it would be better that she came clean to the woman who'd taken her in.

'Keladry of Mindelan, squire to Lord Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak.'

'A noble?' asked Fanche, surprise just visible over the grief clouding her eyes. Evidently she had never realised that squires, knights-in-training, would have to be noble.

Kel nodded, resigned. Fanche regarded her for a moment and then shook her head, 'You're far too sensible to be properly noble, must have some common blood in there somewhere.'

A laugh escaped from Kel before she could prevent it. To any other noble this would've been an insult, but to Kel, who knew Fanche, this was as good a compliment as could be asked for.

'I'm sorry,' said Kel. 'Maybe I should've told you who I was, but at the time being Keladry of Mindelan hadn't worked out very well for me. I wanted to be-'

'Just Kel,' interrupted Fanche, reminding Kel of her parting words.

'Exactly.'

'Then what, life as a commoner became too hard?'

This question stung Kel, but she reminded herself that Fanche had just been widowed and lost two of her children. She was amazed that Fanche was even calm enough to have this conversation.

'I travelled for three years, learning how to fight before I returned to Corus. They offered me a chance to re-enter my knight training.'

'And you took it.'

'I may be a good swordswoman, but I can't take on bands of raiders or Scanrans on my own.' Kel pointed out.

They lapsed into silence.

'That-' Raoul called the baron of Anak's Eyrie an extremely rude name. 'Of course he can't house sixty of his own people,' he snorted. 'It would put too much strain on his precious pursestrings.'

'Well we've got to put them somewhere whilst the Greenwoods camp is being built,' pointed out Flyndan from his position by the door. Wyldon and Vanget were seated, Raoul perched against his desk whilst Kel was sat cross-legged on a large trunk that housed most of the Company's paperwork. They had all gathered to discuss the future arrangements regarding the protection of the border.

'We'll get some woodworkers over here before snows come,' said Vanget, scratching his shortly cropped hair. 'Erect a new barracks with bunks to increase capacity. I'm sure we'll end up with more.'

'And I want Third Company, more specifically you-' he addressed Raoul, 'At fort Steadfast. Wyldon's going to take command of this district from Mastiff come spring. I need someone I have confidence in further west. Regular army will take over here.'

No one spoke for a moment, looking up to the maps pinned to the wooden walls of the office. It was a big border.

Raoul had told Kel privately, before Vanget and Wyldon had arrived, that he had a suspicion that they were going to have to relocate; a company of the Own could look after itself and didn't need to be sandwiched between Vanget and Wyldon's armies. What Raoul hadn't counted on was Vanget wanting them to make the move almost immediately.

'With any luck there's still a good two weeks before it starts to snow. The quicker you start to know your way around Steadfast, the better.'

Kel listened as the discussions continued for the better part of two hours, the three men deciding where to station the companies of the regular army. Kel hadn't realised how big the army actually was. According to Raoul, over the last six months men from garrisons around the country had been summoned north, many of them receiving extra training at one of several huge garrisons situated between Corus and the northern border.

When the meeting disbanded, Kel unrolled her bed roll. Luckily the office was warm from all the bodies that had previously occupied it, but all the same Kel did not bother to change into night things, merely tucking herself beneath the blankets.

Raoul shook his head exasperatedly at the sight of his squire settling down on the floor in the corner, bid Kel goodnight, and disappeared into his own sleeping quarters.

The ride to Steadfast, three days later, was not a pleasant affair. Even bundled up in as many layers as Kel could wear without completely impairing her movement, the wind was biting and shortly after midday the rain started to fall, lashing down in sheets.

'I bet Vanget's enjoying watching this godscursed weather from your office,' Flyndan growled.

'Well at least we're all getting a good soak,' said Raoul. 'I was beginning to wonder about when the last time some of you had washed.'

'You could've just thrown us in the Vassa milord, I think we'd be drier.' Kel pointed out.

'If this rain keeps up we might end up in the Vassa anyway,' said Quasim.

Over the sound of the downpour there was a low rumble of churning water that told them they were following the raging river westwards to Steadfast.

They returned to their own thoughts. About half an hour later Raoul commented, 'Well at least if it's raining here, it'll be snowing up in Scanra. The more snow that falls the safer we'll all be this winter.

Night came early now and had well and truly fallen by the time they reached Steadfast's towering walls. By the light of flickering torches they were admitted through iron-barred gates and a set of double walls into a space that was big enough to easily allow Third Company and all their mounts to assemble.

They were met by the fort's commander and were urged to stable their mounts in one of five huge barns fitted with individual stalls. They then walked for a good five minutes across more open space before coming to more barns, these ones housing bunks for the men themselves.

According to Captain Broadmarsh there were already two companies of the regular army in residence, as well as several rider groups and an assortment of regular knights tasked with protecting the border.

Raoul, soon to take over command of the fort, had rooms in the officer's quarters. Kel was to sleep in the barracks with the rider women, cooks, and female healers. Kel lugged her heavy packs towards the smaller shed, feeling bone-weary, every step through the mud an enormous effort.

Frozen fingers fumbled to open the door. Kel stepped into a room that was blessedly warm and stood for a moment, blinking dumbly around. Several women looked up on her arrival, riders judging by their brown uniforms. They were lounging on beds, talking amongst themselves, or rolling dice.

One woman, with brown bushy hair, put down the pair of breeches she was mending and half stood to get a good look at Kel.

Kel forced her legs forward woodenly, shivering in her sodden clothes.

'Who're you?' the lady asked in a lilting accent.

'Squire Keladry,' said Kel tiredly, stumbling a little. She found a free bed and sat down before her legs gave out on her.

'Squire to who?' asked someone else.

'Lord Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak.' replied a third voice.

Kel was too tired to be surprised that they knew who she was. She pulled off her filthy boots and struggled out of her cloak and jacket. Exhaustedly she unrolled her bed mat, spread it on the roughly made wooden bed and placed Courage down on one side. Kel removed the rest of her sodden clothes, until she slipped a company-issue shirt that served as a nightshirt on over her underwear and practically collapsed into bed. She had the comforting feeling of being dragged downwards into her bed before sleep over took her.

'Should wake her?'

'No let the poor girl sleep.'

'But she needs to eat...'

'Just leave the food on-'

Voices filtered in slowly through Kel's sleep, so slowly that at first she wasn't sure if she was dreaming or not. Rather than her usual jerk upright, reaching for her sword, consciousness returned slowly and she opened her eyes, not moving her heavy limbs.

Three rider women were looking down from her bedside, one of them the curly haired woman who'd spoken to Kel earlier.

'We weren't sure whether or not you'd eaten,' said the lady kindly.

Kel shook her head and pushed herself into a sitting position, slightly dazed. 'My lord-' she started to say.

'Asked us to tell you that he's going to bed himself and that he doesn't want to see you until tomorrow morning,' said a black-haired rider, who was the youngest of the lot and was wrapped up warmly, despite the warmth of the barracks.

Kel relaxed back so that she was propped against the wall.

'Here,' the Rider with curly hair passed Kel a bowl that was still steaming.

Kel, who hadn't eaten anything more than a crust of bread in the saddle many hours previously accepted the stew gratefully, cradling it and letting the warmth seep into her hands.

The women introduced themselves as Kiera, with the curly hair, Dana, and Ros, the youngest of the trio.

'What group?' asked Kel thickly through a mouthful of hot stew.

'Dogs,' said Ros cheerfully, 'Arrows are here as well.'

Kel remembered that "Thayet's Dogs" were the sixth rider group and "Royal arrows" were the tenth.

'How long've you been posted here?'

'We replaced the Clouds and Rabbits about six weeks ago,' replied Dana sitting on the bed next to Kel's. 'It's nice to have a new face amongst the ranks.' Kel remembered the Clouds, having once hunted bandits with them.

'Who else is here? I heard that there were two companies of the regular army.'

'Them, us, now the Own and lots of lone knights, them woodworkers who's building stuff, quite a few mages, healers...A merry band,' said Ros.

Kel finished the stew and placed the bowl on the floor next to her bed.

'Here, we'll leave you to get some rest,' said Kiera with a meaningful look at Ros and Dana. Kel had the feeling that she was in charge of the Dogs. 'In the morning some of us'll show you round.'

'Thanks,' said Kel, feeling awkward. She slipped lower into her warm blankets and was asleep within seconds.

Steadfast was a lot larger than Giantkiller and was home to at least five hundred people. This made the whole place a lot more impersonal and meant that there were an awful lot of people whom Kel didn't know.

She spent a lot of her time helping Raoul in the fort's offices. Although there was a whole team of clerks dedicated to ensure the smooth running of the paperwork, Raoul liked to check everything through himself, telling Kel that it was his responsibility as commander of the fort.

Her knight-master also spent a lot of time planning and drawing up patrol lists. The most complicated part of this was assigning positions and groups to the lone knights who'd been sent to defend the border. Unlike the Own and Riders who were conveniently divided into squads or groups with a commanding officer, the regular army was more flexible in group size and often Raoul assigned one or two knights to join a group of regular soldiers. This system was fraught with complications; some knights would never have commanded groups before and Raoul didn't want to place too many men in the hands of an inexperienced noble when they had veteran commoners available to lead groups.

The politics of the process gave Kel a headache, and it was always a relief when Raoul dismissed her sometime in the early afternoon to go and practise her swordplay.

One of the unused barracks had been turned into a makeshift practice area, with all it's beds pushed aside. It was always hot and very rowdy in here, men cheering and egging each other on. Kel preferred to train somewhere quieter, even if it did mean having to brave the chill weather outside. She worked hard with the Own who had been given a rigourous training routine for the winter months by Raoul. The Knight Commander didn't want his men or their horses to lose fitness; it could prove fatal.

She rode Prince whenever she could, cantering for long distances and pushing him until sweat dripped from his heaving flanks. She pushed herself harder; running, fighting, practising drills over and over, building up her muscle with jumps and exercises, shooting with the Riders and hand-to-hand fighting with soldiers of the Own. Driven as ever by the thought of what was occurring further North, Kel was determined to be ready for whatever would arrive come Spring.

Although Kel spent most of her time with the Riders and the Own, Raoul occasionally joined the other knights at their tables in the mess hall. He clapped shoulders with old friends and shook hands with others. Kel was fascinated by the variation amongst the border knights. Some were young, barely older than herself and she recognised a couple from her brief spell as a page; Yancen of Irenroha and Balduin of Disart. Only a few knights had squires and most of them were old squires, at least sixteen or so. Kel supposed that no one wanted to bring a fourteen-year-old up to the front line. She spoke occasionally to Iden of Vikison Lake, a cousin of Owen's who she'd been introduced to before.

Kel was very intrigued to meet Raoul's only previous squire whom he'd taken on right after he'd passed the order of knighthood himself. Douglass of Veldine was a stocky man not much taller than Kel herself with an untidy mop of blonde hair streaked with a surprising amount of grey.

Kel liked him instantly. He not only treated her as a worthy choice of squire for Raoul but, to Raoul's displeasure, took great enjoyment in recounting stories of Raoul's youth. Kel struggled to imagine her knight-master, Sir Gareth of Naxen, the Lioness and the King running around as pages and squires, getting into trouble, being given punishment duties, kissing court ladies for dares and fighting over Lady Delia.

When Douglass started on the tale of a Giantess who'd fallen in love with Raoul once, Raoul threatened;

'If you don't stop sullying my Squire's ears with these tales then I'll be forced to have her fight you to defend my honour.'

Douglass chuckled, 'Fight me yourself you lazy hedgepig.'

'Oh but Kel's so much better at thrashing people than I am,' said Raoul matter-of-factly.

The blonde man's eyes widened slightly incredulously. Noticing this Raoul said quietly, 'She won the King's tournament three years ago Doug, and from what I hear gave Alanna the best challenge she's had since the Shang Dragon died.'

'The King's tournament,' breathed the knight. 'At the age of what, fifteen?' He looked impressed.

'Forgive me, Keladry,' he said. 'I've been at Dunlath protecting another strong-willed young lady for the last few years and have had very little news from the capital.'

'How is Lady Maura?' asked Raoul.

'Still refusing to leave her beloved fief to seek a husband in Corus,' Douglass sighed fondly. 'I've been organising the border protection in that area for the last few years but was reassigned here about four months ago.'

The conversation turned inevitably to the defence posts along the border and Kel, who'd just spotted someone familiar talking to a group of knights, excused herself.

She was so busy watching the knight in question that she walked right into someone.

'Excuse me, sir,' Kel apologised hastily, stretching her neck upwards to look into a face that was almost a foot higher than her own. She started, seeing a pair of familiar blue eyes and solid nose, set in an unfamiliar face.

'No problem,' said the Knight easily. He was just about to turn away when the question burst out of Kel.

'You aren't by any chance related to a Domitan of Masbolle, sir?'

'You know Dom?' he glanced down at the emblem on Kel's tunic. 'Ah you're Lord Raoul's squire aren't you. Been riding with the Own then?' Kel nodded. 'Yes he's one of my younger brothers. Is he here with you?'

'Yes Sir.'

'Would you let him know that I'm here?'

'I'd be happy to,' Kel assured the knight.

Dom's brother nodded. 'Tell him it's Greg.'

Kel bowed politely and then continued on her path towards the man she had initially been seeking, one of her own brothers.

'Sir Conal,' Kel tapped her brother's arm. 'May I have a word?'

Conal turned around, confusion written across his face.

'It's Kel,' said Kel quietly.

'Oh,' Conal's expression was difficult to read. 'Outside?'

They went to stand out in the cool November breeze, looking up at the heavily-laden clouds.

'How've you been?' Kel asked the brother that she hadn't seen for over eight years.

'I had been fine,' said Conal, narrowing his eyes at his youngest sister. 'Before you turned up.'

Kel realised that it had been a mistake to hope that Conal might've laid aside his grudge after eight years separation. The familiar expression of hatred was colouring his otherwise good-looking features.

'Do you realise how embarrassing this is,' he hissed, 'Having to serve alongside my sister? If you do anything to-' he lunged for Kel, grabbing her by her shirt collar and smashing her against the outside wall. Kel's head smacked hard into the wood and for a moment she saw stars dance in front of her vision. Once her head cleared, she reacted without hesitation. She drove her fist into Conal's stomach, hard, and with a grunt he released his grip on her. Then it was her turn to grab him and slam him into the wall. She immobilised her brother by an arm across his throat, pressing firmly on his windpipe.

'I'm not four years old anymore Conal,' she said angrily, 'You can't dangle me over a balcony to scare me into obeying you. I'll do whatever I want and there's nothing you, or your little conservative friends can do about it.'

'Kel?' Raoul's voice was shocked.

Kel stepped backwards, releasing her brother. 'I'm done with you.' She turned to her knight-master, her expression mutinously blank.

Raoul beckoned her over to his office, not wanting to confront her in public.

'Who was that?'

'One of my brothers.' Said Kel shortly, as she stepped over the door frame into Raoul's brightly-lit quarters.

'Kel,' said Raoul sharply, 'You're bleeding.'

Kel lifted her hand to her throbbing head and it came away wet and sticky with blood.

'You need to go and see a healer,' said Raoul instantly.

'No, I'm fine,' said Kel, wiping her bloody fingers on her breeches.

'Here,' Raoul steered her to a chair.

His large callused fingers carefully parted her hair and probed at the injury. Kel breathed in sharply and tensed, waiting for him to finish.

'It's not too deep,' concluded Raoul. 'Head wounds tend to bleed a lot at first though,' he disappeared into another room and reappeared moments later clutching some clean dressings.

'Here, hold this to your head until the bleeding slows.'

Kel did as she was told.

'Kel,' said Raoul, very seriously. 'Did your brother do that to you?'

Kel avoided looking at her knight-master and said, very carefully, 'Conal and I have never seen eye-to-eye. I thought maybe after a long period of separation we would've resolved our differences. It appears I was mistaken. But he won't be bothering me again, my Lord.'

'No he won't,' said Raoul darkly.

'Please, don't say anything to him,' begged Kel. 'I've sorted it out. If I stay out of his way it'll be fine.'

Raoul considered his squire for a moment before giving in and agreeing not to step into the matter unless Conal raised a hand to Kel again.

The snow began to fall the day after the incident with Conal and kept falling until the fort was well and truly covered. Midwinter was a simple affair. No one had had any chance to go gift shopping so presents were limited to what could be made within the fort itself.

Kel gave Raoul a flag that she'd embroidered herself with the Goldenlake emblem. When the weather became milder it could fly high above Steadfast as a sign of Raoul's command. In return she received a pair of warm mittens that Raoul had made for her out of the material of an old waterproof coat.

There was a tourney held over the festive period, but to Raoul's surprise, Kel didn't enter. Kel wasn't sure why she was so reluctant to fight but she was fed up of having to prove herself in front of large crowds, fed up of drawing so much attention to herself. Her focus was on Scanra, and the year that awaited them all.

Wow that was an effort. Written paragraph by paragraph over four weeks!

Regarding the reunion between Kel and Fanche; I know a lot of you wanted Fanche's family to all be saved etc. etc. but I always try to keep things as realistic as possible, and really, a few staff lessons six years ago, wouldn't have helped Fanche to save her whole family... Sorry :( Also I hope that the Fanche I wrote this chapter is somewhere between the nice friendly mother that we first met and the bitter woman of Lady Knight. We will meet Fanche again in a couple of chapters and maybe she and Kel can have more of a chat when she's got over the shock of losing most of her family ;D

Please, please review! We're now launching into one of the most exciting phases of the story -full out Scanran war, and with Kel stationed at Steadfast she's going to be in the thick of it!

Confusedknight xxx