Chapter 3

Lyn rode back to the ger, balancing the smaller form of the shivering girl in front of her. She was surprisingly light, but the more concerning fact at hand was the small bits of skin Lyn could see that wasn't covered. The girl's face was pale, and the tips of the fingers on her right hand showed signs of the start of frostbite. Lyn urged Samir to take it a bit faster, and in what seemed like much longer then it actually was, she'd made it back home. She dropped Samir's reins, and he stood unmoving as she slide off his side, cradling the girl as she did so. Her dead weight was more unwieldy when Lyn attempted carrying her, but she managed, placing her carefully before the fire and pulling off her boots. She then dragged over her bedroll, removing the girl's cloak before gently laying her on top of it and piling on as many blankets as she could find. As if in reaction to the sudden warmth, the girl gasped, shivering harder as her dark caramel eyes opened a slit.

"M-must find. . . wa-warn. . ."

Lyn crossed over hurriedly, hoping to catch more of the chattering words. The girl's eyes filled with urgency at the sight of Lyn.

"Hush," the older girl crouched by the younger's side, "You're safe, rest now."

The girl's head moved just the slightest bit, a weak attempt at a head shake.

"M-My. . . lady! Th-the young. . . mas-ster. . . ordered. . ."

A violent shiver immobilized her, and her eyes drifted shut, leaving Lyn quite confused. Who was the 'young master'? Was the girl a slave? Lyn leaned down, meaning to tuck in the covers around the girl a bit more, when an icy glitter caught her eye. She reached out and lifted the object by it's chain, a ring of some sort, with a pattern like water covering the surface. She set the ring into her palm and gasped, dropping it. It's like holding a chunk of ice! She didn't know what made her do it, but she placed the ring closer to the blaze, to warm it a bit. It steamed, and the ice coating it, giving the ring a glossy sheen, melted, dripping water to the grassy floor.

Is everything about this girl cold? She thought.

Lyn brushed a long strand of light brown hair away from the girl's face, wondering at what could bring such a very young girl to the middle of the plains.

The time that passed was a blur to Elle, her mind fuzzy as it passed between waking and sleeping. Most of the time, a woman greatly resembling Lady Madelyn drifted in and out of her line of sight. She'd called to her once, but her mouth had been unwilling to cooperate. She felt herself stir slightly, feeling the rough confines of the sheets and many-layered weight of blankets over her. Her eyes opened, to be met with the dancing light of a fire. There were rounded walls and a roof, also slightly rounded, and Elle though it made the single room cozy. Boxes and layers of cloth draping the room added a colorful warmth to the walls. On one of theese boxes was her Drivsno tome, her dagger, her boots, and her green cloak. The scent and sound of a bubbling stew met her ears and nose, and she sat upright slowly, the heavy blankets falling away. Dozing by the fire, propped up against a crate, her head slightly at an angle, was a dark green-haired girl, her hair in a long ponytail that trailed down her back. Elle felt like she was pushing her thoughts though a haze or mush, The Lady Madelyn? Did I already find Lady Madelyn, and by sheer luck?

"How-?"

The single word, mumbled as it was, woke the older girl with a start. She rubbed her eyes, yawned, and stretched, finally moving her gaze to the Ostian girl.

"Oh, are you awake?"

The green-haired girl stood, and Elle, registered her as a young woman belonging, (by her manner of dress) to the nomadic tribe of the Lorca. She wore a favorite dress of Lorca women. It was light blue, with short black undershorts and a reveling skirt allowing free motion. Thin belts, wrapped around her waist, gave the dress form and a place to fasten items. Before Elle could respond, the nomadic girl had given her a wooden bowl and cup.

"I found you unconscious on the plains," she sat down across from her, "I am Lyn, of the Lorca tribe. You're safe now. Who are you? Can you remember your name?"

The storm of questions, combined with the fact that Elle had just taken a gulp of stew, and that she'd been trying to register the flood of information, rendered her momentarily speechless. Lyn of the Lorca. . . The name was a shimmer of recognition, and Elle's mind whired to life,

"I'm Adelle, of Ostia," she paused, "Please call me Elle though, Adelle is stiff and formal, two things I never intend to be."

Lyn laughed and nodded, her excitement peaking, "I see by your attire that you are a traveler. What brings you to the Sacae plains?"

Elle hesitates, and the eager woman pauses, "Would you share your story with me?"

"I'm a. . ."

A what? Can't really just say, 'spy from Castle Ostia tasked with finding a nomadic girl and her family to understand the situation until (hopefully) some knights bring them to her royal grandfather while avoiding her uncle who's probably evil'.

". . . Mage," she said lamely.

"Ah, I see. . .," Lyn digs around in one of the small pouches tied to her waist, "What's this?" she holds up a twisted piece of metal, and Elle winces inwardly, "It feel out of your boot when I took them off."

"A uh. . . magic study tool," or it's a lockpick. Elle reached out and plucked the tool out of Lyn's hand, "I'm looking for someone," she said, continuing the tale as her head dropped, "Traveling around to improve my trade in the meantime. I'd hoped to find Lord Hassar of the Lorca, to offer my skills."

Lyn's eyes went wide, "You're from Ostia! Nobody from the Lycian League ever takes us nomads for anything other than savages!" her smiled dropped, "I'm sure father would have been glad to hear that there was kindness among the people of Ostia."

Her father would have? Her father. . . wait, this is Lyndis! Elle frowned in thought, Would have. . . has he passed? What of the Lady Madelyn?

"You speak of him in the past tense."

"He. . . they. . . my parents. . ." the young woman's eyes drifted shut, her back rigid, "Bandits came. . . they. . . it only took one night."

There's a long awkward pause, in which Elle, unsure what to do, desperately wished for something to do with her hands. She found a vent in the cooling stew she held, taking another sip as she thought. Should I say something? What would I say? Just as she opened her mouth, Lyn drew a shuddering breath.

"No more. . . I will shed no more tears!"

Her eyes snapped open, lit with a fierce flame.

"Elle, if you truly are traveling to hone your skills, take me with you! The Tavelar Bandits. . ." she paused, "I wish to grow stronger."

This would be perfect! I know exactly what path the knights will ride to get here. I can get her to their safety, then deliver a report to Lord Hector. Ostia stays out of it, Caelin gets their heir safely, and I'm home early!

"You can come with me," says Adelle.

The young woman's face lights up, "Will you really teach me? Oh Elle, I'll come!"

"Then what happened?"

Elle frowned, "I don't know, one second, he's saying something about 'Batta the Beast', the next, I'm waking up in your ger."

Lyn handed her another package, and Elle dropped it into Samir's saddlebag. The two girls had been going over Lyn's possessions most of the morning, and now, they packed what little necessities they could in preparations. Elle gave the leather strap one last tug, making sure everything was secure, before ducking under the ger's flap to grab a few last things she'd be carrying. She picked up the rather well-used light blue tome, her fingers brushing the raised silver swirls of metal in the cover as the clipped it onto her belt.

Lyn gave her a rather worried look, "That's an Ice tome," she says, "Is it a Fimblveter?"

Elle shakes her head, "Drivsno, a bit less dangerous, and without the bad side effects."

"You passed out," she points out.

"Yes," Elle tried to think of how to explain it, "Only because I'd used Fimblvetr, a sage level spell. I'm not powerful enough for it yet."

"Then why'd you use it?" Lyn's voice is slightly scolding.

"Because it was the first thing that jumped into my head honestly," Elle gave one last look around the ger, "Ready?"

Lyn nodded, one hand on the hilt of the sword she'd just buckled on, "Let's go."

Elle grabbed her arm, "Not yet," she gave the girl a court curtsy, "Thank you Lyn," she says, with the voice she usually reserved for royals she when she was introduced, "For saving my life. I am ever in your debt."

"It was nothing."

Elle straightened, shaking her head with a suppressed chuckle, "My life is nothing?"

Lyn blushed with embarrassment, "I-I mean you're welcome!"