Birth of a Queendom

By Velvet Rose Hopkins

A self-imposed quest turns into an adventure that Lyn never expected. After finding the men who killed her father, she searches out the one who ordered it. The journey takes her far from her home to a land filled with tyrannical kings. With the help of her newfound friends, she tracks down the man who put out the bounty. When she finds herself in a position she was born to but not raised in, her natural abilities surface.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781644248492

Book preview

Chapter One

Coralyn! You lazy little half-breed child! Isnel yelled imperiously. Her long elven-silver hair was pulled back severely from her narrow face into a braid that hung down her back. Her faded green eyes were squinted, showing her displeasure. Her high forehead was wrinkled into a deep scowl directed toward the child at her feet. How many times must you be told? You are not to be dreaming in the middle of the day! There’s work to be done! Now get to it or the switch will find your back again!

Yes, Aunt, the girl said quietly, not daring to look at the elven woman or the two girls seated at the table.

Isnel no longer carried the inherent beauty of the elves. Time and circumstances had soured her, both in attitude and in face. Her silver hair no longer shined and hung in thin limp strands. The lines on the woman’s face told a story of sorrow. Her green eyes had lost their soft sparkle. Now they were hard as stone.

The two daughters gave a hint of what the matron had looked like in her youth. Both were slim, with heart-shaped faces and bright green eyes. Their hair was snow-white, customary on the young of their race. It was a sign that they were not quite physically mature, which was true, as they only counted thirteen and fifteen summers.

Lyn’s violet eyes stayed on the scrub brush she was using on the floor. Her faded tunic and leggings, wet with soap water, were stained from repeated soakings and frayed from long overuse. The amount of lye in the soap made her eyes water, and the smell of it stung her nose. Her long black hair was dull, pulled back in a braid and wound into a bun to keep it out of the way.

Truth be known, she was not so much daydreaming as counting the chores left to be done. When they were finished, she would have her free time. Usually, before anyone wakes up in the morning and after the dinner chores were done was her time to get away from everyday life. Sometimes she would run in the woods next to the stream that flowed near the cottage. Running stretched her legs and allowed her mind to roam. Mostly, though, she went to a small shack deep in the woods. She knew the path well and could run at full speed. Out where there was no one to tell her to lower her gaze or the sound or sight of her was not wanted. That was where she headed as soon as her chores were done.

Walking the little-known path was exhilarating, to say the least. Oaks, some as tall as sixty feet, competed with the giant redwoods and bushy pines for the sunlight. Ferns, shrubs, flowers, and saplings sprouted wherever a stray beam of sunlight came through the expansive canopy. A light breeze carried the scent of sap and flowering trees. Animals scurried in the underbrush. Deer, rabbits, birds, and the like added their own touch to the serenity of the area.

A stream, little more than waist-deep, gave Lyn the opportunity she was looking for. Opening her sack, she pulled out a tunic and leggings. They were in the same shape as the ones she had on, but at least they were clean and dry. Laying them on a large rock, Lyn stripped out of the lye-covered clothes and waded into the water. Taking her hair down, she carefully washed it and herself, careful of the lye burns on her legs and arms. Before climbing out of the stream, she washed her soiled clothes as well. She found a flat rock that was warmed by a sunbeam. After drying off, she put on her dry clothes and spread the wet ones on the rock to dry. She would get them on the way back. Now that she was clean, she continued her walk to her friend’s home.

The shack itself was in a small natural clearing. Made with stones and mud, it looked less stable than it actually was. Next to it was an herb garden with various plants and shrubs growing in it. Most were herbs used for healing, cooking, teas, and such. Roses, lilac bushes, and red ferns grew along the sides of the paved stone path that led to the house, adding their own scents to the forest breeze and giving it a well-cared-for appearance. Flowering ivy grew on the lattice that almost covered the small cottage. Next to the cottage were several mulberry bushes full of fruit. From a window, the smell of freshly baked bread and mulberry pies drifted out to blend with the flowers, giving the area a unique smell.

As careful as possible, the girl watched her footfalls, trying to sneak up on the little house. Using the trees around for cover, she quietly made her way along the dirt path.

Kneeling in the garden with her back to the path was a small human woman vigorously pulling weeds. Suddenly, she paused and looked up. The woman with laughing green eyes set in a tanned face and framed by waist-length black hair turned to look up the path. Smiling, she said, Ah, Lyn! So good to see you!

It’s good to be here, Sara, Coralyn answered the customary greeting, stepping out from behind a tree. I still don’t know how you do that. I’m sure I didn’t make any noise. How did you know I was there?

Ah, now that is a secret, Sara chuckled. How are you this fine evening?

A little tired, but all right, the girl answered truthfully. Isnel is in a tizzy again today. She made me scrub the floor twice! Just because some elf magician is coming over for lunch tomorrow, everything has to be spotless. You know how she can be.

Yes, your aunt can be difficult at times. You should be used to it by now, Lyn. You’ve lived with her most of your life, Sara said. Standing up, she brushed the dust and dirt from her leggings and hands.

Sara, I’m nearly twelve summers old. Do you think I’ll be anything but a servant for my own aunt?

Looking at the girl, Sara seemed to come to an important decision.

Come inside, Lyn. I’ve something to tell you. We’ll have some tea.

Sara turned and entered the cabin, followed by Lyn. Inside looked bigger than the outside. The kitchen had several pots and pans hanging from pegs in the wall. Next to the wood-burning stove was a shelf with a couple dozen small canisters holding herbs and spices. Through an archway was the eating area with a table and chairs. A big bowl of fresh fruit sat in the middle of the table. There were two small bedrooms and a sitting room. On the walls of the sitting room were several small tapestries and paintings. A number of windows added light to every room. Sara took a brass kettle off the wall and filled it with water she had brought in from the stream. Into the kettle she put chamomile leaves and raspberries, for flavor. Then she set it on the grate of the hearth to boil. Lyn was sitting at the table, eating a large red apple. Sara sat across from her.

It’s time you know about your parents, Lyn. I will tell you this, but what you do with the knowledge is up to you.

Lyn sat back and prepared herself for what her friend was going to tell her.

Your mother was elven, Sara began. She was in standing to inherit her mother’s position until she met your father. They fell in love and married. Soon after they returned from their After Binding Seclusion, the council denounced your mother. The only person who would talk to her was Isnel.

I don’t understand, Coralyn interrupted. Why denounce her just because she got married?

The man she loved was human, Lyn. The council believed she had turned against her people and her duty of fealty. The council dismissed the right of the family to inherit the title that was theirs due to her choice. The council declared the families title forfeit and took it for themselves. They gave the title to one of their choosing.

Lyn sat shocked.

That’s why my aunt looks down on me? Because of the man Mother loved and a prejudiced council that wanted the family’s title for themselves?

Listen to the rest of the story, Lyn, Sara responded, admonishing Lyn lightly. Just after they found out your mother was carrying you, your father was murdered. By whom, we don’t know. We do know they were humans. Your mother was heartbroken. You were only three moons old when she died. The elves think she died from loneliness and sadness. I’m not so sure. She adored you. With her gone, Isnel was the only one who would speak for you in front of the council. I would have, but being human, I was not allowed at the meeting.

It was quiet while Lyn absorbed this information. She sat in her chair and tried to sort it all out. Her face showed she was in a state of confusion. Then, with a very doubtful look, she asked, Why would you have spoke for me? Did you know my mother?

Sara studied the girl in front of her. Suddenly, the kettle whistled, indicating the tea was boiling. Getting up, Sara took a cloth and carefully picked up the kettle. Lyn had gotten two mugs, the pitcher, and a strainer. Sara poured the tea through the strainer into the pitcher. From there she poured the tea into the mugs. Sara sat back down while Lyn went to the cupboard for the bread, cheese, and a knife.

Well? Lyn asked, not willing to let the question drop. Did you know her?

Sara looked at Lyn over her steaming mug.

Yes, I knew your mother. But I did not meet her until after she met my brother, just before they got married. Sara stopped to let this news sink in.

Coralyn sat with her forehead wrinkled in thought. All of a sudden, her brow cleared and she looked at Sara in surprised understanding.

You’re my father’s sister! she exclaimed. My aunt. All this time you’ve kept this a secret? Why? Lyn asked, genuinely hurt.

"Your aunt Isnel, in cooperation with the council, swore me to secrecy. I had to keep it or risk not being around you. Isnel would have taken you far away and I would have never seen you again. I would not have been able to watch the daughter of my only brother grow. At the time, I was willing to do anything to be able to stay near you. I tell you now only because you need to know the truth. You are responsible enough to know what to do with your new knowledge.

In that, you are just like your father. You are like your mother in your understanding and caring heart. I cared very much for both of them, as much as I care for you. Never think badly of yourself or the differences in your heritages. Your parents loved you as much as they loved each other. You have your father’s hair, strength, and spirit and your mother’s eyes, face, and heart. All that adds up to make you a very strong and special person. Always believe that and you will go far in this world.

Sara got up, went over to her niece, and hugged her close. Know also that I have always loved you and always will.

I understand, Sara. I love you too, Lyn answered and hugged her back. From the table they both went back out to the garden and spent the evening talking and tending the plants.

Near sunset, Lyn got up and, with words of return, left to go back to Isnel’s.

* * *

The next morning, Isnel sent Lyn to the village market for some fresh fruits for lunch. When Lyn got to the market, she noticed a gypsy caravan sitting in a field with their booths set up. Curious, she went to investigate. There were dozens of pegs holding beaded necklaces, bracelets, and dyed twine. One booth had tables full of stoppered bottles of indefinable liquids. Another sold herbs and supplies for potions. The last one had knives, daggers, and swords, all with highly decorated sheaths. A man stood next to this one, dressed in bright-red leggings and an open-front white tunic. He had several colored scarves tied around his waist and one on his head dyed to match his leggings. Looking at Lyn, he smiled and inclined his head to her. She smiled back and walked over to where he was.

Good morn, young mistress, he said, his soft tenor voice rolling out. What brings you to our humble caravan this fine day?

I was just looking at a few of your things, Lyn answered. I haven’t coin to buy anything except what I was sent for, but it is nice to look.

Looking doesn’t cost—he smiled again—except maybe the price of knowing your name?

Coralyn is my given name, but you can call me Lyn. What is yours?

I am called Joshua, and my bride’s name is Maree. He gestured behind Lyn.

Lyn turned and watched a woman approach. Red hair curled around to frame her face and hung past her waist in well-formed ringlets. A single braid hung from just above her left temple. Woven into the braid were thongs with beads on them and bells knotted onto the ends. Long lashes outlined ice-blue eyes. She was taller than Lyn by half a foot. Her skirt looked to be made entirely out of scarves attached to a belt and layered to cover her from hip to ankle. Tiny silver bells hung from the bottom, tinkling lightly when she walked. The top she wore was more corset than tunic but had scarves tied to it as well that hung down to blend in with the skirt. When she was close enough, she curtsied smoothly to Lyn. As she rose, she flourished her empty hand in the air and produced a single white rosebud, which she presented to Lyn. Lyn looked at the rose, shocked, but didn’t take it.

Why do you look so surprised? Maree asked Lyn. I am sure you can do much better, being elven.

I’m only half, and I have never been taught magic, Lyn stated plainly.

Never been taught? Well, if you want to learn, I would be happy to teach you at least the basics.

I would love to, but I am not allowed to learn. My—Lyn paused, looking for the right word—"caretaker has made it plain I am not worthy of learning magic since I am only half-blood. Besides, two summers ago, I was caught talking to gypsies. There was a boy whose mother was talking to them as well. When Isnel found out I was talking to a human boy and gypsies, she switched me with a rose branch."

Maree glanced quickly at Joshua. Well, if you ever change your mind, come find me. I’m more than happy to begin your training.

Thank you for the offer. Lyn curtsied. I had better get what I was sent for. It was nice meeting you. She turned and went back into the market.

The two gypsies could only watch her leave.

* * *

The house would have been a beautiful creation at one time. Now it looked somewhat neglected. Sung using elven magic, the giant white oak had been shaped to form rooms out of the living trunk. Even the stairs were carved into the side of the tree, spiraling around to give access to the upper floors. Archways served as doors to the interior. The trunk rose almost forty feet before branching out to meet the sunbeams. It had been made several centuries ago and kept alive by the constant care of the elves that had lived in it. But now the leaves were withered and the bark peeling. The sourness of those living within was leeching the life from the ancient tree.

That afternoon, while Lyn cleared the lunch dishes, the visiting magician brought up that he had seen Lyn in the market.

Do you not keep a tight rein on the girl, Isnel? he asked pointedly.

I do. Why? What has she done?

When I saw her, she was talking to gypsies. Not only that, but they were doing magic. The human woman even offered to teach her! If I were you, I’d keep a better eye on her.

I will do that, Isnel promised. And she will be punished for the dalliance.

Lyn cringed at the tone in her voice. Isnel showed her guest out then turned on Lyn.

"How dare you! I send you to do one simple thing and you flout your chore to mix with humans? And not just any humans, but gypsies at that? Charlatans and thieves, that’s all they are!"

Isnel grabbed Lyn by the hair and drug her outside. With a piece of rope, the woman bound Lyn’s hands together then threw the other end over a tree branch and pulled until Lyn’s feet barely touched the ground. After she tied the rope off, Isnel went back into the house and returned with a knife and a switch. With the knife she cut open the back of Lyn’s tunic to expose her skin.

I promised a punishment, and you will receive one. Since you want to consort with thieves, you shall be punished as one.

Lyn braced herself for the lashing, allowing her mind to drift to a more pleasant place. She pictured Sara’s cottage with its garden and flowers. She had the image so firmly in her mind she barely felt the first strike.

Ten lashes for a thief and ten more for the embarrassment you have caused my house! Isnel chided before untying the rope, dropping Lyn to the ground. Now clean up your mess! I don’t want your blood all over my house!

With that, Isnel went back inside, leaving Lyn lying in the dirt at the base of the tree.

* * *

The next day, Coralyn knocked on Sara’s door quite early. Sleepily, Sara answered the door and took in what was in front of her. Lyn stood there in her tunic, leggings, overcoat, and boots. Over her shoulder hung a small leather bag that was bulging with what little could fit into it.

Running away? Sara joked.

Yes came the always-truthful answer.

This brought Sara completely awake. Again looking at the girl, as if to judge her position, she decided not to try to talk her out of it.

Come in and eat breakfast first, Sara said, no longer joking.

Once again they sat across the table from each other. Sara got up after a time of silence. She busied herself with making breakfast and tea.

Where are you going? Sara asked, keeping her voice steady.

I’m not sure. Away from here. There is a group of gypsies traveling through the village. I’m thinking about going with them for a while. I talked to a couple last time I went to market for Isnel. She said she would be happy to start teaching me magic. I will only stay with them until I find somewhere to settle. I will send word when that happens. I promise.

While Lyn was talking, Sara had been cooking. When finished, Sara dished out the steaming food and tea. They both ate in silence. Afterward, Coralyn got up and cleared the table. Sara poured more tea into the mugs.

Why? was the only word Sara could say.

There is nothing, save you, to tie me here any longer. I need to find out my place in life. I’m twelve summers old! I can’t stay and be Isnel’s little slave girl all my life.

There was nothing Sara could do but help. She went to the cupboard and got out the cheese and bread. She put them in a sack along with some fruit and traveling cakes and handed it to Lyn. She also handed her a couple skins of water and one of juice. Hugging the girl close, she said her goodbyes.

As Lyn walked away, Sara stood on the path with tears in her eyes and watched until the trees blocked her view then waited until she couldn’t smell the lye any longer.

Chapter Two

The room was quiet except for the crackle of the fire and the drip of the wax from the sconces. The candles had already been long lit then replaced. The wax bowls under the candles had been emptied so as not to overflow onto the floor.

Maria, Coralyn called, bring some more wine and ale. You know what we are drinking.

Moments later, two women came through one of the archways. Both wearing their best uniforms, they had pitchers to refill the goblets. One was in red with a gold sash to signify her authoritative position. The other was in the tan of a beginner underling. They went around the table and filled the mugs, each to their appropriate drink.

Thank you, Maria, Coralyn said to the one in red. New server?

Yes, Mistress, the woman in red answered as she bowed. She’s working quite well, too.

Good, Coralyn said. Then turning to the new woman, she said, Mind your manners. Mind your superiors. Mind your appearance. Those are the basic rules. Keep them in mind and you’ll be in blues before you know it!

Y-y-yes, M-m-mistress, she stammered, obviously unprepared to be addressed directly.

The women proceeded to clear the dinner platters from the table as well. When they were finished, both women bowed and left the room. From an interior archway walked a huge man. Standing a little over twelve feet, he looked like a relation to the giant already at the table.

Tholonuis! Eplictees called. Come sit over here. We’ve a good tale going!

While the giant came over to the table, the men slid chairs around to permit him to sit with them. Before taking his seat, he bowed to Lyn. I was just coming in for a drink before going home for the night. How much have I missed?

Not too much yet, Eplictees told him. She just ran away from home.

So what happened next? Did you really run with a pack of gypsies? asked Raylor.

Lyn cast a scathing look at the man.

Don’t get ahead of me. Yes, I did stay with them for several summers. I learned all I could from them. The leader, Joshua, taught me how to fence and throw daggers. His wife taught me some magic. She used to say I was a natural, but at that time, I didn’t believe her. They helped me learn to read and write also. I learned a great deal from them, so don’t put them down.

I’m sure he didn’t mean it the way you took it, James interrupted. You have always been touchy about them.

But they taught you all those things, Basock said. You have every right to defend them.

Coralyn looked around the table at the people sitting there. Would you like to hear more, or do you just wish to retire for the evening?

I believe I speak for all of us when I say, please continue, Renol said as he glanced around at the group.

The rest of them nodded their agreement.

"Well, all right. About three summers after I left with the gypsies, we went through a small village. There was to be some kind of celebration there, and we had been asked to join in the entertainment. Just as we were setting up camp, a woman walked through the campsite. I don’t know why she caught my attention, but something about her piqued my curiosity. The first show was just before sunset so everyone could attend. We played music so they could dance, and then we set off a small display of pyrotechnics to the sounds of ‘Ooohs’ and ‘Ahhhs.’

Afterward, the woman approached me and said, ‘Come see me at dawn by the fountain in the center of the village. We’ve much to discuss.’ Then she walked away. Lyn paused to take a drink of her wine. Gathering her thoughts, she continued.

"I asked the band if they knew who she was. No one would tell me. I spent most of that night awake, trying to figure out who she was and why she singled me out.

"Just before dawn, I went to the fountain. She was already there, waiting for me. We walked around the village. Quite nice it was. It was very well cared for. She was pointing out interesting things to me about the place. Finally, she said, ‘You have the potential for great magic, but you need training. You will come with me to live. I will teach you how to use your gift.’

All I could do was stare at her. Then I asked, ‘What about the gypsies?’ ‘The tribe will understand’ was all she said. With that she turned and walked away. I went to talk to Joshua and his wife. They said that they knew she would take me in as a student. She is the mistress of a tribe of gypsies that decided to stay in one location. That tribe only traveled within the kingdom they lived in, being extremely loyal to their king. They were expecting it, and they didn’t tell me! So here I go again, packing up, but this time to stay somewhere. After so many years of traveling, it seemed strange.

Did you send word to your -Aunt Sara about where you were? Raylor asked in the pause.

Yes, I did. She replied with a message that she was happy for me and to learn all I could from the woman. I was definitely going to do just that. For the next eight summers, everything I did had something to do with learning magic. Even eating had a lesson to it. I learned so many things it would take years to cover it all.

Just then, through the larger of the archways entered a young woman of about seventeen summers. She was very well dressed and taller than Coralyn. Her waist-length blond hair framed her oval face. Her hair and her green eyes made a startling and noticeable difference between the two females.

Oh! So sorry, she said when she entered. I had thought you would be finished with dinner by now.

EliAndré, Lyn answered. What a pleasant surprise! Do come join us.

James got up to take a chair from a nearby table. The rest of the men slid their chairs around to make room for the girl. James set the chair between his and Lyn’s.

So, Lyn asked, what have you been busying yourself with?

Same old studies came the bored answer. Move this over there, put out the candle, relight the candle . . . I can do all this in my sleep!

That is the way it should be, Basock replied. You must be able to control what you have before you can use it effectively.

I hate to agree, but Basock is right, EliAndré, Raylor put in. It took both Lyn and I years to attain our skills, and still there is much we don’t know.

What were you talking about before I interrupted? asked the girl.

Lyn was telling us about her life before she came here, Renol answered.

Would it be all right if I stayed to listen?

That would be our pleasure, Eli, James replied.

Chapter Three

There was to be a celebration. The cooking fires and roasting pits had been lit since early morning. It was midday. The men were out in the woods hunting game for the feast. The women, however, believed they had much more to do than the men. There was bread to be baked. Various kinds of tea had to be brewed in sufficient amounts for the gathering. Dishes to go with the meat that would take many different forms must be made. Soups, roasts, boiled and rock-grilled steaks, fowl of all kinds, and fish. All required individual vegetables and accompaniments. Ale, mead, wine, as well as little-seen brandy had to be inspected for ripeness . Most of all was what to do with the children! Lyn finally thought of a solution.

Why not send them to fetch some firewood?

Such a simple thing had not occurred to the matrons of the group.

Excellent idea! came the answer. So the women set it into effect.

Lyn, however, was bored. She was not to help with the cooking or preparations at all. Time after time she was told, I’ve got it or Don’t worry, honey, we’re doing just fine here.

Finally, she approached her mentor.

Mistress Tarilla? If I am not to assist, may I take my leave to go for a ride?

Of course you can, Lyn came the kind reply. Just be sure to return one hand before dusk.

I will! Lyn beamed.

She ran to the stables, saddled her favorite horse, Tavian, and rode out of the village. Most of the women watched her leave, although she wasn’t aware of it.

Much like when she was a child, she ran through the woods. The one difference was, this time, she had a horse to help her. She stopped near a small lake. Dismounting, she lay in the tall grass to watch the ducks swim.

When she returned as directed, everyone was in the central square. She took the horse back to the stable and made sure he had oats and water. After she finished with the horse, she went out to the square.

Just as she entered, a lit torch was thrown onto a pile of dry straw. Immediately the fire caught, and flames licked upward. Deadfall and green branches had been arched over the straw. The flames leapt to the wood, and soon it, too, was blazing. In almost no time, a roaring bonfire danced where there was once only wood and straw.

As Lyn was watching, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to meet her teacher’s joyous eyes.

This is the first full moon of summer, she said to Lyn as well as the rest of the gathering, her voice full of pride. You are now twenty-two summers old. Not only that, but you have learned all you can from me. I can teach you no more. You must journey to find your next teacher. You have worked very hard for this day. It is yours.

She led Lyn to the head of the main table and sat her in the place of honor. When the jostling for seats had settled, Tarilla stood on her right side. She took a small lock of Lyn’s waist-length hair from right above her left temple and tied a small thong around it. From the thong hung three strands of strong but thin horsehair twine. Twenty-two beads, divided between the three strands, freely hung on the twine held on by a tiny silver bell tied at the end of each strand. The beads were made of hardened glass and double-fired ceramic with a few bored, smoothed crystal, antler, and bone added in. Tarilla proceeded to braid the twine into her hair. When she reached the end of Lyn’s hair, she tied a knot to hold the braid. This allowed several fingers’ length, almost half a foot, to hang loosely. The beads and little bells tinkled whenever Lyn moved her head.

Tonight, Coralyn, you are given beads to celebrate your success. They mark you as one of us and as an adult able to care for herself. Tonight, you eat first.

Lyn got up, took her plate, and went to the serving table. After looking over everything carefully, she chose some vegetable stew, baked grouse, apple bread, and a small glass of mulberry wine. The wine was her favorite, and that was well-known.

After dinner, musicians brought out numerous instruments. Reed pipes and flutes of different sizes and tones made up the melodies and harmonies. Sections of tree trunks, hollowed out, were wrapped with tightly fitted hides to make a type of drum. Smaller or larger trunks were used to produce a wide range of sounds and resonance.

Dancers, in many different costumes, whirled around the giant bonfire. The outfits were meant to represent several deities, from the omnipresent Goddess to the god of prosperity, to the goddess of love, and the god of good luck. They twisted and dipped in an ancient dance, all in time with each other and the music. The intricacy of the dance proved the skills of the dancers.

All the well-wishing was aimed at Coralyn. She was leaving and would need all the protection and luck she could get. She would be a woman alone and vulnerable.

Suddenly the dancing stopped.

With a flash of sparks, Mistress Tarilla appeared in front of the fire. She raised one hand, and everything quieted down. Even the fire seemed to silence itself.

We’ve a few gifts for you to celebrate this night, she said to Lyn.

One by one the people of the village came forward. The gifts that they had were either traded for or handmade. Most of them were very practical. Riding clothes, traveling equipment, a bow and two quivers full of arrows, sleeping blankets, and backpacks were all things that were useful on any outing. She was also given several things that weren’t so useful on a journey—hand-spun pots and jars, a tapestry showing the fountain in the middle of the village, gypsy clothing and a few pairs of finger cymbals as well as several baskets full of different beads and dyed twine, storage baskets of different sizes and colors woven in intricate patterns, and even some tanned animal skins, some with fur and some leathered, but not cut into anything yet. Beautiful, meaningful, but not practical for a trek, like the one she was planning.

Her closest friend and heart-sister, Kira, gave her a waist harness of daggers.

You earned these at your last accuracy test, Kira said. Then she grabbed Lyn in a fierce hug. More than a few tears were shed between the two.

The last two people waited until everyone else was finished. These were her mistress and the elder of the village. Lyn was quite fond of him. For the last eight years, he had been a type of father figure to her.

A tap on her shoulder made her turn. Behind her was Elder Thios. In his arms was a small ball of fuzz. He handed the fuzz to Lyn. She took it over by the fire and held it up to see it. Gasping, she turned back to the elder.

Is this what I think it is? she asked, eyes wide.

Well, what do you think it is? he chuckled.

It looks like it, but it can’t be. Can it? It looks like a hellhound cub! I’ve never seen an adult alive, let alone a cub! she said excitedly.

I had found a female that had been injured severely, in a fight, I suppose, Thios offered as an explanation. I followed her back to her den. They are solitary while nursing. This little girl is all that is left of her mother and siblings. She’s only about two seven-days old. She’s going to get bigger than you and will need lots of attention and love to get there.

What do you mean ‘bigger than me’? I’m taller than some! I am five feet tall! Lyn exclaimed indignantly.

One finger’s width short of five feet, to be exact, Thios said dryly. She will probably be a good half-foot taller than that.

What will you name her, Lyn? Tarilla broke in.

Well, I’m not sure. Lyn paused, thinking. After several moments, she stated, Takira, after my mistress and my best friend.

You do realize, Lyn, they are empathic as well as telepathic, don’t you? Try. You know how to path a message. The statement came from the elder.

Focusing on the cub, Lyn sent a simple Hello, you are safe now message. Almost immediately, the cub looked up at her. The answer, somewhere between a purr and a growl, was both verbal and mental.

I heard that! Lyn cried. In my mind too!

Just remember, like a babe, she must be taught to send what she wishes you to know, Thios stated calmly. She can pick up feelings too, so calm down before you get her upset.

Lyn quickly put a damper on her feelings. It was then she realized the cub had dug her claws into the tunic. Holding the cub close, Lyn radiated love and caring. Soon the cub was fast asleep.

If you will put her down, Tarilla said quietly, it is time for my gift.

Slowly and carefully, so as not to wake her, Lyn laid the cub on the pile of blankets and furs beside her.

Follow me. Tarilla turned away from the square and bonfire. Lyn followed her through part of the village to Tarilla’s personal stables. Tarilla went to a stall and stopped. Inside was a large warhorse, black, with no markings. He stood twenty-eight hands at the shoulder. Trained by the best in the area, he could, and would, kill to protect his rider using hooves or teeth. Lyn had taught him several other handy tricks.

As if lost in thought, Tarilla went to the stall next to his. Reaching in, she guided out the horse by the rope halter. A new one, not long in the stables, she was gray with black mottling on the haunches and black mane and tail. Attaching a lead to the halter, Tarilla handed over the horse to Lyn.

She’s mine? Lyn asked, surprised.

Yes, answered Tarilla. She has not been given a name yet. She’s not a warhorse, just a rider mare.

Lyn looked over the horse. Young, strong. Her thoughts ran. About twenty hands, long legs, well-formed muscles, healthy coat and mane.

There are pack bags in the halter room that go with her, Tarilla said, proud of her pupil for her interest in the horse’s health. You won’t need a saddle for her, though.

Why not?

Because she’s for you to use as a packhorse. You’re to ride him. Tarilla gestured to the black warhorse.

You’re giving me Tavian? Why? I thought you bought him for you?

"You’ve been caring for him since, as a colt, he got ill, and you nursed him back to health. You have trained with him. He knows you and what to expect from you, and you know him. It would be detrimental to