p align="left"em"For now the lords of the islands,/embr /emDoulíkhion and Samê, wooded Zakynthos,/embr /emand rocky Ithaka's young lords as well,/embr /emare here courting my mother; and they use/embr /emour house as if it were a house to plunder./embr /emSpurn them she dare not, though she hates that marriage,/embr /emnor can she bring herself to choose among them./embr /emMeanwhile they eat their way through all we have,/embr /emand when they will, they can demolish me."/em/p
p align="left"—emHomer, The Odyssey: Book I, lines 283-290. Translated by Robert Fitzgerald./em/p
p align="left"strongem4th First Seed, 4E 197/em/strongbr /Juniper's hooves rang over the stones of the main path through Mor Khazgur as Borgakh trotted her past Pavo and Olur./p
p align="left""She could do with a full trim," Pavo was saying. "A smith in Karthwasten saw to her feet over the winter when we couldn't travel cross country, and she was tender for a week. We let them go a bit."/p
p align="left"Borgakh halted at the closed gate in the stronghold wall, bracing as Juniper turned towards the byre, pulling against the lead. With some effort she turned the mule back up the pathway towards the forge. There had been frost in the night, and the stones of the path glittered in the morning sun. Juniper snorted, sending a cloud of hay-scented vapor into the air./p
p align="left"Olur was nodding, one hand under his chin while he followed Juniper's hooves with his eyes as Borgakh returned to where he stood next to Pavo./p
p align="left""That's the problem, people try to shoe a pack mule like a palfrey instead of a working animal. I'll fix her up." Olur looked at Borgakh and jerked his chin towards the forge./p
p align="left"As Borgakh led Juniper behind Olur, the mule gave the barn another longing look before relenting to Borgakh's insistent tugs on her halter and following with a heavy sigh. Pavo gave Juniper a pat as she went by before returning to the table by the longhouse where Ghamorz and Gul had piled the stronghold's pelts and extra orichalcum from the winter's mining and trapping. Pride kindled in her chest at the sacks of bone ash she had made with Shuftharz over the winter and the flakes of isinglass she had spent hours and days extracting from the slaughterfish and eels Ghamorz caught in his fish traps./p
p align="left"Shuftharz looked up as Borgakh tied Juniper to the railing next to the forge pavilion and Olur prepared his tools. On the workbench a large pile of unfinished orichalcum scales gleamed in the morning sun, waiting for tempering and shaping. Shuftharz, however, was working on a pickaxe./p
p align="left""I will be done shortly." The shaved sides of Shuftharz's head glistened with sweat despite the chilled air. "This is the last pick that Pavo and Gat brought for repair."/p
p align="left""Yes, mother." Olur looked over Juniper's back to where Sharamph was examining the sacks of wheat, barley, and other staples Pavo had brought to trade. "I think grandmother will be ready soon." He secured his thick leather farrier's apron, split down the middle, around his waist. "Make sure to include the value of my services in the bargaining."/p
p align="left""Of course, my son."/p
p align="left"While Shuftharz put the finishing touches on the pickaxe, Olur set to work removing Juniper's shoes, his movements quick and sure. Though no longer needed at the forge, Borgakh paused. She liked watching Olur work. As much as he would insist that his primary skill was in forging weapons, when he was working on a horse or mule his customary scowl would soften and a small line of concentration would appear between his brows. He seemed to anticipate every movement and shift of weight Juniper made, pausing in his work until she settled, and resuming when she was done fussing. It was like a dance./p
p align="left""Borgakh," Bagrak's voice pulled Borgakh's attention away from the work at the forge. "We will be doing shield drills today. Warm up appropriately."/p
p align="left""Yes, mother," Borgakh said, and moved to the small sparring ground in front of the longhouse./p
p align="left"Several training dummies and a clear, leveled area marked where the members of the stronghold trained for battle. Borgakh had already thrown her threadbare gambeson over the dummy to keep it at hand, and quickly selected her waster and a wooden shield from the weapon racks before donning the gambeson. It was getting hard to close over her chest and the hem no longer reached her knees. Borgakh thought it comically large when Grutha had made it for her./p
p align="left"She grimaced and turned away from the memory before swinging the waster a few times. The sounds of the stronghold faded as Borgakh settled the guige of the training shield around her neck and began to execute the forms her mother had taught her./p
p align="left"Olur's steady hammering at the forge became a metronome as Borgakh turned her attention to the training dummy—she found herself striking in time with the ringing of his anvil./p
p align="left"emNearside-overhand, offside-underhand./em/p
p align="left"The training dummy shuddered as it absorbed her rhythmic blows./p
p align="left"emOffside-overhand, nearside-underhand./em/p
p align="left"The familiarity of the movement allowed Borgakh to expand her awareness; the haggling over the goods Pavo had brought with him resolved itself from background noise into words./p
p align="left""—Kolskeggr is practically belching out gold, I can easily extend you credit—" Pavo was saying./p
p align="left""We do not need your emcredit/em, we will make a fair trade for what we can here and now." Sharamph said. Her cowl was thrown back to reveal the gray streaks in her hair. Borgakh could hear Shuftharz grunt in agreement. "You have been spending too much time with those Nords in Markarth, if you're talking about nonsense like emcredit./em"/p
p align="left""I don't want interest or anything—"/p
p align="left""Mor Khazgur does not owe debts," Shuftharz said with finality./p
p align="left""Look, if you're that determined, I can—"/p
p align="left""Your sword is fast, but it outpaces your shield." Bagrak's voice cut through Borgakh's eavesdropping./p
p align="left"Borgakh completed her final thrust, and brought her sword to a low guard before turning to face her mother./p
p align="left""You leave your hand unprotected when striking."/p
p align="left""My own shield is larger so—"/p
p align="left""You will not always be fighting with your own shield, and you must be adept with any armament you may find yourself using." Bagrak picked up Borgakh's helmet and handed it to her, before placing her own on her head./p
p align="left""Yes, mother." With the helm in place, Borgakh's world contracted to the narrow field of view afforded by the oculi in the nasal guard. The camail draped over her shoulders and neck, trapping the moisture from her breath as it settled over her mouth and nose./p
p align="left"Bagrak likewise settled her helm on her head; it shared the same basic design as Borgakh's, but the flowing black horsetail crest, the intricate etched and enameled designs, and the finest mail Shuftharz's forge could produce hanging beneath the oculi and guard marked it as belonging to a Shield-Wife. It veiled Bagrak as she hefted her own wooden waster into a high guard position and turned to Borgakh./p
p align="left"emOne day I will have a Forge-Sister to make me armor as fine as mother's./em/p
p align="left"Borgakh mirrored Bagrak's stance, and their sparring began./p
hr /
p align="left"The sun was halfway to its zenith when Bagrak called an end to their exercises./p
p align="left"Borgakh's fingers were still buzzing when she pulled her helmet off. Her hair stuck to her neck, clammy in the cool spring air. She should ask Ghamorz to shave the sides of her head soon, before the weather truly warmed./p
p align="left""I can tell you have been practicing the drills I gave you, but your strength flags too soon," Bagrak said, pulling off her own helmet and opening the neck of her armor. "Unfortunately there is nothing that will give you lasting stamina other than time and diligent training."/p
p align="left""Or grandmother's potions," Borgakh said with a sly smile./p
p align="left""You'll get your hands on my stamina potions when you have a husband to use them on," called Sharamph, not looking up from where she was now working at her alchemy table./p
p align="left"Bagrak laughed, and despite the almost-permanent scowl that creased her brow, the corner of Sharamph's mouth twitched as well./p
p align="left""Until that day comes, you will suffer for your strength, as Malacath decrees," said Bagrak. "When you see Olur, tell him we will train guarding after midday."/p
p align="left"Accepting her mother's practice shield and waster, Borgakh returned the training gear to the weapons rack, making a note of a loose bolt on the shield that would need to be repaired. After removing her gambeson and spreading it over one of the training dummies to dry, Borgakh brought the shield back to the smithy./p
p align="left"The forge was roaring, and Shuftharz had a bubbling pot of dark lacquer sitting at the hearth. With a horsehair brush in one hand and a smaller pot of cooling lacquer in the other, she carefully spread a shining layer of the pigment over each of the armor scales arrayed on her workbench. In the corner, a drape was partially removed from the armor stand, exposing part of an unfinished cuirass./p
p align="left"The firelight glinted off of the deep green of the orichalcum plates. Calligraphy worked in filigree and enamel decorated the edges of the swooping pauldrons: prayers to Malacath alternated with notable entries in Mor Khazgur's Ledger of Grievances. It was a masterwork./p
p align="left"emAnd none of the weak-willed layabouts outside the wall deserve it./em/p
p align="left""Forge-Mother, one of the shields needs repairs," Borgakh said aloud when Shuftharz finished one row of the scales and looked up./p
p align="left""Giving Bagrak as good as she gives you, Shield-Daughter?" Shuftharz said with a smile. "It is good to see your hard work and training bear fruit, is it not?" She set down the pot of lacquer and wiped her hands, before taking the shield from Borgakh and examining the bolt. "I will fix this now, so that it is ready for Olur this afternoon." She began to set aside the scales once more./p
p align="left""I can tighten the bolt," Borgakh offered. "It shouldn't need more than that, and you are busy with…the armor."/p
p align="left"Shuftharz sighed. "These scales are tedious, and I welcome the distraction. If you want to see Pavo off, he and Olur are in the barn."/p
p align="left"It would be good to say goodbye to Pavo, and perhaps even Gat, if she went along with them outside of the wall. As Borgakh left the smithy, a movement caught her eye on the path up to the mine./p
p align="left"High above the valley floor, Bagrak stood next to the smelter outside the mine entrance. The iron-gray streaks in her hair caught the morning sunlight, and her face was upturned./p
p align="left"emThis is perfect hunting weather. Mother and I could—/em/p
p align="left"Borgakh shut down that line of thinking. Her mother could not leave the stronghold while the encampment was outside. Borgakh realized with a start that neither her mother nor Shuftharz had been able to set foot outside of the walls for almost a year. From the ledge next to the mine entrance they could see to the rim of the valley, but not beyond./p
p align="left"Turning away, Borgakh hurried towards the stable./p
p align="left"Juniper, hooves newly shod, was tied to the paddock fence. She snorted as Borgakh pushed her aside to dunk her head in the water trough./p
p align="left"The water was cool and invigorating, even if it did leave behind the faint scent of Kharag's winter fodder when she blew it out of her nose. Juniper tossed her head and laid her ears back as Borgakh shook the water from her braid./p
p align="left""Are you going to sleep with the animals as well?" Olur said, coming out of the small tack shed carrying Juniper's pack saddle. "I hope so, the longhouse is getting a bit ripe, but I didn't want to say anything." He laughed and avoided the blow Borgakh aimed at his arm with a quick sidestep before placing the saddle onto Juniper./p
p align="left""Mother said that she wants you to prepare for guarding drills this afternoon, so maybe we'll both end up in the barn," Borgakh replied./p
p align="left"Olur groaned. "She's going to make me use the great-axe again, isn't she? I should throw that thing in the river."/p
p align="left""She'd just make you swim down to get it."/p
p align="left""You're probably right." Olur moved to Juniper's off-side and settled the breeching around her haunches. Borgakh reached under Juniper's barrel to begin doing up the cinches./p
p align="left""You'll want to make Bruca's Ford by midday tomorrow, mark my words." Ghamorz was saying as he and Pavo exited the shed. Pavo held a small, hardsided case that clinked along with several folded pelts; Juniper's packs were slung over Ghamorz' shoulders. "The sea will be sending rain our way, and you'll find yourself having to go all the way to the lake to cross the river if you wait too long."/p
p align="left""Aye. The weather's been too nice for this time of year. I don't trust it." Pavo reached up and patted Juniper, and gave a quick tug on the rigging straps to test their fit, and smiled at Borgakh. "You've become a fine swordswoman, Borgakh. Your mother is teaching you well. In the Legion I saw men ten years your senior who would have been winded with just your warm up."/p
p align="left"Borgakh grinned as she put the final straps in place on the pack saddle. "I would put my sword against any foe and come out the victor!"/p
p align="left""Don't encourage her, Pavo. Her head won't fit through the stronghold door," Olur grumbled./p
p align="left"Borgakh made a rude face at him, and he rolled his eyes. She was about to make a nastier face when something hard and sharp struck her elbow, and her arm went numb./p
p align="left""Save your grimacing for our enemies, not your brother," Sharamph said as Borgakh hissed and rubbed her arm where Sharamph's staff had struck it./p
p align="left""Yes, grandmother."/p
p align="left""I have the rest of your potions," Sharamph held out another hard-sided case. "I have set aside the ingredients to fulfill what we have agreed. They will be waiting when you and Gat return."/p
p align="left""I do appreciate your willingness to store them for us until we come back—your Night Eye brew is the best in the Reach, but we just have no place dark enough to store that amount for any length of time. It'll be lighter for Juniper too, to carry them in two journeys."/p
p align="left"Olur circled around Juniper, checking rigging straps; Pavo's own satchel was secured on his back./p
p align="left""Once again, I thank you for your hospitality, and a fair trade." Pavo said as Olur handed him Juniper's lead. "We will likely return after midsummer."/p
p align="left""We will watch for you."/p
p align="left"When Ghamorz opened the gate, Olur and Pavo stepped through. Borgakh started to follow them, but Ghamorz grabbed her arm./p
p align="left""Olur and I will see Pavo off. Stay inside the walls."/p
p align="left""But—"/p
p align="left""Stay behind, Borgakh," Olur said over his shoulder./p
p align="left"Borgakh fell silent, crossed her arms, and scowled. Olur scowled right back./p
p align="left""Come, Borgakh, let us watch from the wall," Sharamph said at her elbow./p
p align="left"Swallowing her disappointment, she turned from the gate as it closed behind Juniper, and followed her grandmother./p
p align="left"When they reached the top of the wall, Gat had risen from his seat near a small fire on the edge of the camp. He called some cheerful-sounding words back to those he had been seated with before approaching Pavo and Juniper. Pavo's face split into a wide grin when he saw Gat, unharmed and in good spirits. There was a small conference as Gat's belongings were tied to Juniper's packs, and the small group set off, making their way along the edge of the valley./p
p align="left""It is good to feel the sun on your face, is it not?" said Sharamph. She was not looking at the group; instead her head was tilted back, the dark cowl almost falling off the crown of her head. "I think Ghamorz is right, we will not see the sun again for several days."/p
p align="left"Borgakh looked north, where a jagged ridge of rock blocked Mor Khazgur's view of the edge of the Karthald plateau and the sea. The sky was blue; there were no clouds. The encampment was peaceful, for once. Most of the orcs watched Pavo and his escort with mild interest, but little hostility./p
p align="left"As the figures reached the far rim of the dale, she could see Olur and Ghamorz clasping forearms with Pavo and Gat. Ghamorz gave Juniper a slap on the rump as he and Olur turned back towards the stronghold./p
p align="left"Movement caught Borgakh's eye below where she and Sharamph stood./p
p align="left"Ansug was not watching Olur and Ghamorz. He was standing almost directly below where the watchtower rose from the palisade, and he was staring up at Borgakh and Sharamph. His lip curled as Borgakh met his gaze, and he did not look away./p
hr /
p align="left"Ghamorz's prediction proved true, despite Borgakh's doubt. Rain arrived the next night, startling her awake with a sudden clap of thunder, followed a few moments later by a downpour that pounded on the stronghold roof like the hooves of a stampeding herd of elk. Borgakh waited for a few tense minutes, straining her ears to detect any sounds of water finding its way through the shingles. Mor Khazgur was sturdy, but every rainy season found chinks where the winter's frost had breached the roof./p
p align="left"She heard nothing, but now, awake in the dark, she listened to the breathing of the others in their beds. Borgakh's thoughts turned to Kharag and the goats, sheltered by the small, weatherbeaten byre. Her current need for the privy was not made less insistent by the sound of the rain./p
p align="left"emI'll check on the barn at the same time./em/p
p align="left"Borgakh sat up, swinging her legs over the side of her bed. She reached beneath and pulled out her pair of pattens, carrying them as she found her way between the cots lining the walls of the sleeping chamber by memory, loath to light one of the tallow tapers stacked on a shelf and possibly wake the others. She latched the door to the sleeping quarters behind her as she left./p
p align="left"In the main room, the glow from the banked embers of the hearth was enough to find the half-empty bottle of Night-Eye potion kept on the mantle. The liquid inside was unpleasantly gritty and had a sweet-sour taste that lingered as it slid over Borgakh's tongue and down her throat. However, Sharamph's potions were effective, and in the next moment the furnishings that had been swallowed by the dark shadows began to appear./p
p align="left"As she turned, Borgakh froze. The main door of the longhouse was ajar, and a thin stream of water was already trickling over the threshold./p
p align="left"Eyes darting around the room, Borgakh looked for anything out of place that would indicate an intruder. She saw nothing./p
p align="left"Putting her feet into her boots before throwing her cloak around her shoulders, Borgakh slipped on her pattens and stepped out into the rain, closing the door quietly behind her. The potion was at its full effect now; were it not for the rain she would have been able to see the stronghold grounds as if it were midday./p
p align="left"Lightning split the sky over the northern horizon. She winced as her vision went white, blinking the afterimages away as thunder followed the flash. No one was in the main area. After a few steps, Borgakh gave up trying to walk silently— no one would be able to hear the wooden soles clacking on the stones over the rain and wind. As she hurried down the path to the stable, she peered into the various structures along the way. Sharamph's alchemy hut was as it should be; the supply and weapons sheds were undisturbed. As she reached the barn, Borgakh could see nothing amiss./p
p align="left"Kharag lifted his head and snorted when Borgakh opened the door of the barn and peered in. The goats were asleep in the straw piled in the corner, heads resting on each other's withers, sides rising and falling with their breathing. All was as it should be./p
p align="left""It must have been the wind," she said to Kharag, who twitched his ears in response. She closed the door, and turned back up the path towards the longhouse./p
p align="left"Orange firelight flickered on the path to the mine for a moment, and then disappeared./p
p align="left"Borgakh froze, squinting through the curtains of rain. Thunder rumbled overhead again, but the lightning was obscured in the clouds./p
p align="left"The flattening effect of the Night Eye potion made hugging the shadows difficult, but Borgakh did her best to keep to the edges of the path. She stayed under the eaves and close to the walls, sneaking around the back of the smithy before looking up at the mine./p
p align="left"High above her, Ghamorz stood on the terrace at the entrance to the mine, holding out a thick black cloak to shield Shuftharz from both the rain and prying eyes. The tattoo of the raindrops on the smithy roof almost drowned out the roar of the smelter. Borgakh watched, hidden from view by the clutter of the smithy, trying to comprehend the scene illuminated by the furnace fire./p
p align="left"Shuftharz picked up a satchel from the ground. Reaching inside, she clasped something in her hand, and cast it into the mouth of the furnace./p
p align="left"Orichalcum scales glinted for a moment in the light before the flames consumed them./p
p align="left"Borgakh turned and hurried back towards the longhouse, her desire for the privy all but forgotten. She shook the water off of her face as she stepped out of her pattens on the door saddle. Her cloak protected her from most of the rain, but the mud soaked her trews from the knees down. It took some doing to peel the wet wool away from her legs: her fingers shook and she expected at any moment Shuftharz and Ghamorz might return and find her out of bed. Borgakh had done nothing wrong, but she knew she had seen something secret. Something no one was intended to know. When she succeeded in freeing her feet, she hung the trews by the hearth to dry./p
p align="left"The door to the sleeping quarters swung freely inward when Borgakh placed her hand on it. She paused./p
p align="left"The potion waned; the shadows became black. Barely able to make out the sleeping forms in the beds, Borgakh took count: Olur was a large, snoring mound of furs on his bed, and Ghamorz's cot was empty./p
p align="left"As Borgakh crept by Gul's bed she stepped in something cold and wet./p
p align="left"In the last few moments of the potion's effectiveness, Borgakh could just make out a small puddle of water oozing from a pair of muddy boots and a waterlogged cloak piled under Gul's bed./p
p align="left"As the darkness fully returned, Borgakh reached the sanctuary of her small, warm cot. She burrowed beneath the furs, pulling them over her head and trying to find sleep once more./p
p align="left"—emHomer, The Odyssey: Book I, lines 283-290. Translated by Robert Fitzgerald./em/p
p align="left"strongem4th First Seed, 4E 197/em/strongbr /Juniper's hooves rang over the stones of the main path through Mor Khazgur as Borgakh trotted her past Pavo and Olur./p
p align="left""She could do with a full trim," Pavo was saying. "A smith in Karthwasten saw to her feet over the winter when we couldn't travel cross country, and she was tender for a week. We let them go a bit."/p
p align="left"Borgakh halted at the closed gate in the stronghold wall, bracing as Juniper turned towards the byre, pulling against the lead. With some effort she turned the mule back up the pathway towards the forge. There had been frost in the night, and the stones of the path glittered in the morning sun. Juniper snorted, sending a cloud of hay-scented vapor into the air./p
p align="left"Olur was nodding, one hand under his chin while he followed Juniper's hooves with his eyes as Borgakh returned to where he stood next to Pavo./p
p align="left""That's the problem, people try to shoe a pack mule like a palfrey instead of a working animal. I'll fix her up." Olur looked at Borgakh and jerked his chin towards the forge./p
p align="left"As Borgakh led Juniper behind Olur, the mule gave the barn another longing look before relenting to Borgakh's insistent tugs on her halter and following with a heavy sigh. Pavo gave Juniper a pat as she went by before returning to the table by the longhouse where Ghamorz and Gul had piled the stronghold's pelts and extra orichalcum from the winter's mining and trapping. Pride kindled in her chest at the sacks of bone ash she had made with Shuftharz over the winter and the flakes of isinglass she had spent hours and days extracting from the slaughterfish and eels Ghamorz caught in his fish traps./p
p align="left"Shuftharz looked up as Borgakh tied Juniper to the railing next to the forge pavilion and Olur prepared his tools. On the workbench a large pile of unfinished orichalcum scales gleamed in the morning sun, waiting for tempering and shaping. Shuftharz, however, was working on a pickaxe./p
p align="left""I will be done shortly." The shaved sides of Shuftharz's head glistened with sweat despite the chilled air. "This is the last pick that Pavo and Gat brought for repair."/p
p align="left""Yes, mother." Olur looked over Juniper's back to where Sharamph was examining the sacks of wheat, barley, and other staples Pavo had brought to trade. "I think grandmother will be ready soon." He secured his thick leather farrier's apron, split down the middle, around his waist. "Make sure to include the value of my services in the bargaining."/p
p align="left""Of course, my son."/p
p align="left"While Shuftharz put the finishing touches on the pickaxe, Olur set to work removing Juniper's shoes, his movements quick and sure. Though no longer needed at the forge, Borgakh paused. She liked watching Olur work. As much as he would insist that his primary skill was in forging weapons, when he was working on a horse or mule his customary scowl would soften and a small line of concentration would appear between his brows. He seemed to anticipate every movement and shift of weight Juniper made, pausing in his work until she settled, and resuming when she was done fussing. It was like a dance./p
p align="left""Borgakh," Bagrak's voice pulled Borgakh's attention away from the work at the forge. "We will be doing shield drills today. Warm up appropriately."/p
p align="left""Yes, mother," Borgakh said, and moved to the small sparring ground in front of the longhouse./p
p align="left"Several training dummies and a clear, leveled area marked where the members of the stronghold trained for battle. Borgakh had already thrown her threadbare gambeson over the dummy to keep it at hand, and quickly selected her waster and a wooden shield from the weapon racks before donning the gambeson. It was getting hard to close over her chest and the hem no longer reached her knees. Borgakh thought it comically large when Grutha had made it for her./p
p align="left"She grimaced and turned away from the memory before swinging the waster a few times. The sounds of the stronghold faded as Borgakh settled the guige of the training shield around her neck and began to execute the forms her mother had taught her./p
p align="left"Olur's steady hammering at the forge became a metronome as Borgakh turned her attention to the training dummy—she found herself striking in time with the ringing of his anvil./p
p align="left"emNearside-overhand, offside-underhand./em/p
p align="left"The training dummy shuddered as it absorbed her rhythmic blows./p
p align="left"emOffside-overhand, nearside-underhand./em/p
p align="left"The familiarity of the movement allowed Borgakh to expand her awareness; the haggling over the goods Pavo had brought with him resolved itself from background noise into words./p
p align="left""—Kolskeggr is practically belching out gold, I can easily extend you credit—" Pavo was saying./p
p align="left""We do not need your emcredit/em, we will make a fair trade for what we can here and now." Sharamph said. Her cowl was thrown back to reveal the gray streaks in her hair. Borgakh could hear Shuftharz grunt in agreement. "You have been spending too much time with those Nords in Markarth, if you're talking about nonsense like emcredit./em"/p
p align="left""I don't want interest or anything—"/p
p align="left""Mor Khazgur does not owe debts," Shuftharz said with finality./p
p align="left""Look, if you're that determined, I can—"/p
p align="left""Your sword is fast, but it outpaces your shield." Bagrak's voice cut through Borgakh's eavesdropping./p
p align="left"Borgakh completed her final thrust, and brought her sword to a low guard before turning to face her mother./p
p align="left""You leave your hand unprotected when striking."/p
p align="left""My own shield is larger so—"/p
p align="left""You will not always be fighting with your own shield, and you must be adept with any armament you may find yourself using." Bagrak picked up Borgakh's helmet and handed it to her, before placing her own on her head./p
p align="left""Yes, mother." With the helm in place, Borgakh's world contracted to the narrow field of view afforded by the oculi in the nasal guard. The camail draped over her shoulders and neck, trapping the moisture from her breath as it settled over her mouth and nose./p
p align="left"Bagrak likewise settled her helm on her head; it shared the same basic design as Borgakh's, but the flowing black horsetail crest, the intricate etched and enameled designs, and the finest mail Shuftharz's forge could produce hanging beneath the oculi and guard marked it as belonging to a Shield-Wife. It veiled Bagrak as she hefted her own wooden waster into a high guard position and turned to Borgakh./p
p align="left"emOne day I will have a Forge-Sister to make me armor as fine as mother's./em/p
p align="left"Borgakh mirrored Bagrak's stance, and their sparring began./p
hr /
p align="left"The sun was halfway to its zenith when Bagrak called an end to their exercises./p
p align="left"Borgakh's fingers were still buzzing when she pulled her helmet off. Her hair stuck to her neck, clammy in the cool spring air. She should ask Ghamorz to shave the sides of her head soon, before the weather truly warmed./p
p align="left""I can tell you have been practicing the drills I gave you, but your strength flags too soon," Bagrak said, pulling off her own helmet and opening the neck of her armor. "Unfortunately there is nothing that will give you lasting stamina other than time and diligent training."/p
p align="left""Or grandmother's potions," Borgakh said with a sly smile./p
p align="left""You'll get your hands on my stamina potions when you have a husband to use them on," called Sharamph, not looking up from where she was now working at her alchemy table./p
p align="left"Bagrak laughed, and despite the almost-permanent scowl that creased her brow, the corner of Sharamph's mouth twitched as well./p
p align="left""Until that day comes, you will suffer for your strength, as Malacath decrees," said Bagrak. "When you see Olur, tell him we will train guarding after midday."/p
p align="left"Accepting her mother's practice shield and waster, Borgakh returned the training gear to the weapons rack, making a note of a loose bolt on the shield that would need to be repaired. After removing her gambeson and spreading it over one of the training dummies to dry, Borgakh brought the shield back to the smithy./p
p align="left"The forge was roaring, and Shuftharz had a bubbling pot of dark lacquer sitting at the hearth. With a horsehair brush in one hand and a smaller pot of cooling lacquer in the other, she carefully spread a shining layer of the pigment over each of the armor scales arrayed on her workbench. In the corner, a drape was partially removed from the armor stand, exposing part of an unfinished cuirass./p
p align="left"The firelight glinted off of the deep green of the orichalcum plates. Calligraphy worked in filigree and enamel decorated the edges of the swooping pauldrons: prayers to Malacath alternated with notable entries in Mor Khazgur's Ledger of Grievances. It was a masterwork./p
p align="left"emAnd none of the weak-willed layabouts outside the wall deserve it./em/p
p align="left""Forge-Mother, one of the shields needs repairs," Borgakh said aloud when Shuftharz finished one row of the scales and looked up./p
p align="left""Giving Bagrak as good as she gives you, Shield-Daughter?" Shuftharz said with a smile. "It is good to see your hard work and training bear fruit, is it not?" She set down the pot of lacquer and wiped her hands, before taking the shield from Borgakh and examining the bolt. "I will fix this now, so that it is ready for Olur this afternoon." She began to set aside the scales once more./p
p align="left""I can tighten the bolt," Borgakh offered. "It shouldn't need more than that, and you are busy with…the armor."/p
p align="left"Shuftharz sighed. "These scales are tedious, and I welcome the distraction. If you want to see Pavo off, he and Olur are in the barn."/p
p align="left"It would be good to say goodbye to Pavo, and perhaps even Gat, if she went along with them outside of the wall. As Borgakh left the smithy, a movement caught her eye on the path up to the mine./p
p align="left"High above the valley floor, Bagrak stood next to the smelter outside the mine entrance. The iron-gray streaks in her hair caught the morning sunlight, and her face was upturned./p
p align="left"emThis is perfect hunting weather. Mother and I could—/em/p
p align="left"Borgakh shut down that line of thinking. Her mother could not leave the stronghold while the encampment was outside. Borgakh realized with a start that neither her mother nor Shuftharz had been able to set foot outside of the walls for almost a year. From the ledge next to the mine entrance they could see to the rim of the valley, but not beyond./p
p align="left"Turning away, Borgakh hurried towards the stable./p
p align="left"Juniper, hooves newly shod, was tied to the paddock fence. She snorted as Borgakh pushed her aside to dunk her head in the water trough./p
p align="left"The water was cool and invigorating, even if it did leave behind the faint scent of Kharag's winter fodder when she blew it out of her nose. Juniper tossed her head and laid her ears back as Borgakh shook the water from her braid./p
p align="left""Are you going to sleep with the animals as well?" Olur said, coming out of the small tack shed carrying Juniper's pack saddle. "I hope so, the longhouse is getting a bit ripe, but I didn't want to say anything." He laughed and avoided the blow Borgakh aimed at his arm with a quick sidestep before placing the saddle onto Juniper./p
p align="left""Mother said that she wants you to prepare for guarding drills this afternoon, so maybe we'll both end up in the barn," Borgakh replied./p
p align="left"Olur groaned. "She's going to make me use the great-axe again, isn't she? I should throw that thing in the river."/p
p align="left""She'd just make you swim down to get it."/p
p align="left""You're probably right." Olur moved to Juniper's off-side and settled the breeching around her haunches. Borgakh reached under Juniper's barrel to begin doing up the cinches./p
p align="left""You'll want to make Bruca's Ford by midday tomorrow, mark my words." Ghamorz was saying as he and Pavo exited the shed. Pavo held a small, hardsided case that clinked along with several folded pelts; Juniper's packs were slung over Ghamorz' shoulders. "The sea will be sending rain our way, and you'll find yourself having to go all the way to the lake to cross the river if you wait too long."/p
p align="left""Aye. The weather's been too nice for this time of year. I don't trust it." Pavo reached up and patted Juniper, and gave a quick tug on the rigging straps to test their fit, and smiled at Borgakh. "You've become a fine swordswoman, Borgakh. Your mother is teaching you well. In the Legion I saw men ten years your senior who would have been winded with just your warm up."/p
p align="left"Borgakh grinned as she put the final straps in place on the pack saddle. "I would put my sword against any foe and come out the victor!"/p
p align="left""Don't encourage her, Pavo. Her head won't fit through the stronghold door," Olur grumbled./p
p align="left"Borgakh made a rude face at him, and he rolled his eyes. She was about to make a nastier face when something hard and sharp struck her elbow, and her arm went numb./p
p align="left""Save your grimacing for our enemies, not your brother," Sharamph said as Borgakh hissed and rubbed her arm where Sharamph's staff had struck it./p
p align="left""Yes, grandmother."/p
p align="left""I have the rest of your potions," Sharamph held out another hard-sided case. "I have set aside the ingredients to fulfill what we have agreed. They will be waiting when you and Gat return."/p
p align="left""I do appreciate your willingness to store them for us until we come back—your Night Eye brew is the best in the Reach, but we just have no place dark enough to store that amount for any length of time. It'll be lighter for Juniper too, to carry them in two journeys."/p
p align="left"Olur circled around Juniper, checking rigging straps; Pavo's own satchel was secured on his back./p
p align="left""Once again, I thank you for your hospitality, and a fair trade." Pavo said as Olur handed him Juniper's lead. "We will likely return after midsummer."/p
p align="left""We will watch for you."/p
p align="left"When Ghamorz opened the gate, Olur and Pavo stepped through. Borgakh started to follow them, but Ghamorz grabbed her arm./p
p align="left""Olur and I will see Pavo off. Stay inside the walls."/p
p align="left""But—"/p
p align="left""Stay behind, Borgakh," Olur said over his shoulder./p
p align="left"Borgakh fell silent, crossed her arms, and scowled. Olur scowled right back./p
p align="left""Come, Borgakh, let us watch from the wall," Sharamph said at her elbow./p
p align="left"Swallowing her disappointment, she turned from the gate as it closed behind Juniper, and followed her grandmother./p
p align="left"When they reached the top of the wall, Gat had risen from his seat near a small fire on the edge of the camp. He called some cheerful-sounding words back to those he had been seated with before approaching Pavo and Juniper. Pavo's face split into a wide grin when he saw Gat, unharmed and in good spirits. There was a small conference as Gat's belongings were tied to Juniper's packs, and the small group set off, making their way along the edge of the valley./p
p align="left""It is good to feel the sun on your face, is it not?" said Sharamph. She was not looking at the group; instead her head was tilted back, the dark cowl almost falling off the crown of her head. "I think Ghamorz is right, we will not see the sun again for several days."/p
p align="left"Borgakh looked north, where a jagged ridge of rock blocked Mor Khazgur's view of the edge of the Karthald plateau and the sea. The sky was blue; there were no clouds. The encampment was peaceful, for once. Most of the orcs watched Pavo and his escort with mild interest, but little hostility./p
p align="left"As the figures reached the far rim of the dale, she could see Olur and Ghamorz clasping forearms with Pavo and Gat. Ghamorz gave Juniper a slap on the rump as he and Olur turned back towards the stronghold./p
p align="left"Movement caught Borgakh's eye below where she and Sharamph stood./p
p align="left"Ansug was not watching Olur and Ghamorz. He was standing almost directly below where the watchtower rose from the palisade, and he was staring up at Borgakh and Sharamph. His lip curled as Borgakh met his gaze, and he did not look away./p
hr /
p align="left"Ghamorz's prediction proved true, despite Borgakh's doubt. Rain arrived the next night, startling her awake with a sudden clap of thunder, followed a few moments later by a downpour that pounded on the stronghold roof like the hooves of a stampeding herd of elk. Borgakh waited for a few tense minutes, straining her ears to detect any sounds of water finding its way through the shingles. Mor Khazgur was sturdy, but every rainy season found chinks where the winter's frost had breached the roof./p
p align="left"She heard nothing, but now, awake in the dark, she listened to the breathing of the others in their beds. Borgakh's thoughts turned to Kharag and the goats, sheltered by the small, weatherbeaten byre. Her current need for the privy was not made less insistent by the sound of the rain./p
p align="left"emI'll check on the barn at the same time./em/p
p align="left"Borgakh sat up, swinging her legs over the side of her bed. She reached beneath and pulled out her pair of pattens, carrying them as she found her way between the cots lining the walls of the sleeping chamber by memory, loath to light one of the tallow tapers stacked on a shelf and possibly wake the others. She latched the door to the sleeping quarters behind her as she left./p
p align="left"In the main room, the glow from the banked embers of the hearth was enough to find the half-empty bottle of Night-Eye potion kept on the mantle. The liquid inside was unpleasantly gritty and had a sweet-sour taste that lingered as it slid over Borgakh's tongue and down her throat. However, Sharamph's potions were effective, and in the next moment the furnishings that had been swallowed by the dark shadows began to appear./p
p align="left"As she turned, Borgakh froze. The main door of the longhouse was ajar, and a thin stream of water was already trickling over the threshold./p
p align="left"Eyes darting around the room, Borgakh looked for anything out of place that would indicate an intruder. She saw nothing./p
p align="left"Putting her feet into her boots before throwing her cloak around her shoulders, Borgakh slipped on her pattens and stepped out into the rain, closing the door quietly behind her. The potion was at its full effect now; were it not for the rain she would have been able to see the stronghold grounds as if it were midday./p
p align="left"Lightning split the sky over the northern horizon. She winced as her vision went white, blinking the afterimages away as thunder followed the flash. No one was in the main area. After a few steps, Borgakh gave up trying to walk silently— no one would be able to hear the wooden soles clacking on the stones over the rain and wind. As she hurried down the path to the stable, she peered into the various structures along the way. Sharamph's alchemy hut was as it should be; the supply and weapons sheds were undisturbed. As she reached the barn, Borgakh could see nothing amiss./p
p align="left"Kharag lifted his head and snorted when Borgakh opened the door of the barn and peered in. The goats were asleep in the straw piled in the corner, heads resting on each other's withers, sides rising and falling with their breathing. All was as it should be./p
p align="left""It must have been the wind," she said to Kharag, who twitched his ears in response. She closed the door, and turned back up the path towards the longhouse./p
p align="left"Orange firelight flickered on the path to the mine for a moment, and then disappeared./p
p align="left"Borgakh froze, squinting through the curtains of rain. Thunder rumbled overhead again, but the lightning was obscured in the clouds./p
p align="left"The flattening effect of the Night Eye potion made hugging the shadows difficult, but Borgakh did her best to keep to the edges of the path. She stayed under the eaves and close to the walls, sneaking around the back of the smithy before looking up at the mine./p
p align="left"High above her, Ghamorz stood on the terrace at the entrance to the mine, holding out a thick black cloak to shield Shuftharz from both the rain and prying eyes. The tattoo of the raindrops on the smithy roof almost drowned out the roar of the smelter. Borgakh watched, hidden from view by the clutter of the smithy, trying to comprehend the scene illuminated by the furnace fire./p
p align="left"Shuftharz picked up a satchel from the ground. Reaching inside, she clasped something in her hand, and cast it into the mouth of the furnace./p
p align="left"Orichalcum scales glinted for a moment in the light before the flames consumed them./p
p align="left"Borgakh turned and hurried back towards the longhouse, her desire for the privy all but forgotten. She shook the water off of her face as she stepped out of her pattens on the door saddle. Her cloak protected her from most of the rain, but the mud soaked her trews from the knees down. It took some doing to peel the wet wool away from her legs: her fingers shook and she expected at any moment Shuftharz and Ghamorz might return and find her out of bed. Borgakh had done nothing wrong, but she knew she had seen something secret. Something no one was intended to know. When she succeeded in freeing her feet, she hung the trews by the hearth to dry./p
p align="left"The door to the sleeping quarters swung freely inward when Borgakh placed her hand on it. She paused./p
p align="left"The potion waned; the shadows became black. Barely able to make out the sleeping forms in the beds, Borgakh took count: Olur was a large, snoring mound of furs on his bed, and Ghamorz's cot was empty./p
p align="left"As Borgakh crept by Gul's bed she stepped in something cold and wet./p
p align="left"In the last few moments of the potion's effectiveness, Borgakh could just make out a small puddle of water oozing from a pair of muddy boots and a waterlogged cloak piled under Gul's bed./p
p align="left"As the darkness fully returned, Borgakh reached the sanctuary of her small, warm cot. She burrowed beneath the furs, pulling them over her head and trying to find sleep once more./p