Charis rode to her least favourite tree, its ancient branches spread wide, younger branches reaching out for the sun, all of them covered in thick foliage, providing perfect cover. Helice keeping pace beside her, watchful and cautious as always. They both remained mounted while Charis examined the branches and foliage, checking for any unorthodox residents. A brief chilled breeze rustled through the leaves carrying the aroma of nature to both riders, one appreciated the awakened memory more than the other, still a pleasant change from some of the more odorous aromas contained within the town walls.

Invigorated by reminiscence and satisfied the trees limbs supported hundreds of leaves and no human inhabitants Charis positioned herself and Helice in the morning shadow cast by the ancient tree and waited. The morning turned out as another ordinary one in the sleepy hamlet.

Sparse foot, horse and wagon traffic passed through the hamlet and in dribs and drabs they headed towards the spur and the town proper as the local Inn wasn’t an option by middle of the day. The number of horses and wagons in and around the Inn’s stable indicated most travellers were still partaking of their midday meal and hence a full Inn. Charis and Helice led their horses to the Inn’s stable, accepting their horses would be tied to the corral rail and then entered the Inn to make enquires, not to sample the Inn’s fare.

Charis’ quick scan of the Inn couldn’t find an empty table and the hum of conversation, laughter and occasional shouting created a busy friendly atmosphere. Trade Month, the last chance for many to make a deal and count any profit from those who didn’t plan well for Death Season. It was also a time to plan future business on the assumption everyone survived Death Season and to partake in ample drinking in case Death Season cut your life short.

Charis and Helice dodged around the tables, avoiding any animated bodies due to drink or laughter, heading for the bar and the Innkeeper. A short, stout balding specimen, white hair tracking a half circle around his head above the tops of his ears, bald otherwise.

Boisterous shouting alerted Charis and Helice heartbeats before they lent on the bar, so they inquisitively turned towards it.

A small flailing child launched from within a crowd of a patrons, howling across the Inn’s Main Room, caught and then promptly thrown back. After each return catch bets were paid off and new ones placed, and the child launched through the air again. Charis waited for the Innkeeper to act and after another round of child throwing she decided to intervene.

Charis bellowed, “Hold your game! Is this an Inn to enact business in or has a travelling troupe taken up residence?”

Silence as the Inn’s patrons turned to stare at the cause of the interruption. A single patron broke the silence with mocking laughter.

“Girl return to Town, business has been completed, the afternoon is for games and this little thief our plaything!”

Helice slid along the Inn’s bar. Charis pointed to the revealed stack of coins.

“These twenty coins will reward the patron who caught the thief as we claim the right of first victim.”

At any other Inn this offer would spark an all-in brawl, with the child being pulled from one claimant to another. Trade Month attracted a different cliental. Deals to be done and living celebrated before Death Season kills your dreams.

A barmaid approached Charis and Helice with the child at arm’s length, her hand firmly holding onto the child by its hair, the child’s face directed away from her with arms and legs flailing.

Charis channelled her best Magistrate’s voice and presence, “Be still child.”

The barmaid tested her grip and then cautiously released it. Helice subtly prepared to nab the child if necessary. Charis scoped the coin from the bar and poured the coins into the hands of the delighted barmaid who cavorted and shouted in celebration. A fistful of coins in each hand over her head as she danced away to resume her duties behind the bar.

“Stay by our side, if you run and we catch you now or into the future, it will be to punish you,” Charis threatened.

With Helice guarding the child, Charis started questioning the Innkeeper, the original reason they entered the Inn.

The offer of substantial coin didn’t sway the Innkeeper, he couldn’t confirm any details about strangers, one or three or more. There were still too many coming and going to be sure of anything. Maybe next Month he suggested, it was named Month of Magic and since magic no longer existed it was usually very quiet. Some people still scrambled to prepare for Death Season, most though resigned themselves to their fate. In times past magic would ward off the worst of Death Season, no more he lamented.

Charis led them out of the Inn, the child behind her, both followed by Helice.

Charis swivelled to lose the grip on her arm and face the assailant.

“Well played girl, who are you, your armour and cloak display great wealth for one so young?”

Helice didn’t need to depend upon her Mistress’ awakening seer gift. Observing Charis’ muscles tense and body stiffen Helice realised this encounter shattered her Mistress’ composure.

“You are addressing Charis the Young, Mistress of the Daughters of the Duchess, declare your business or let us pass,” stated Helice.

“Clymene send Astera and Thyia with haste to the Wanderer’s Arm Inn, fully armed and armoured, now, hurry sister!” sent Helice.

“They are training, so they merely need to travel, they will arrive shortly.”

The child stared in awe, too preoccupied with the confrontation developing before him to scamper. The Inn drew a breath at the announcement and then silence as the patrons found the encounter fascinating, their interest peaked. Most of the Town knew and accepted Charis and her position, not so at the foot of the Spur, many were transient and therefore didn’t know about her and didn’t respect her title or position.

“Well I would advise in future if you wish for your presence to remain unknown, you venture out in more mundane attire foolish girl,” sniped Redmoor. His hand resting on his sword pommel, the inference plain.

“Mistress, speak, reply to this oaf before his confidence grows,” sent Helice.

“I don’t need to hide and skulk, I am an agent of the Duchess and I am on urgent business for my Liege,” Charis answered evenly, finally recovering from sighting a ghost from her past.

“You seem to me to be a little girl, with too much coin playing with sharp and pointy things relying on your expensive armour and name dropping to protect you.” Redmoor rocked back on his heels and waved behind him with his free left hand.

His words meant nothing to Charis and in fact she would have laughed at him and dismissed his words except for one thing, her memory. Initially stunned upon recognising him, she then brewed and boiled recalling how he and his troop slew her travelling companion months ago. Worse it reminded her of her ineptitude and impotence, worse still her cowardice and inability to save her innocent cohort, well met on the trail.

“Prepare to die!” Charis growled, drawing both of her daggers. His smile broadened as he drew his sword.

“Mistress he has two with him, they are rushing to him.”

Those in the immediate surrounds, kicked back their chairs in their haste to leave. The clattering as the chairs were flung to the ground and scrapping of tables the noises now dominating the Inn.

A banging crash on the bar drew everyone’s attention. The Innkeeper held a large and heavy crossbow, the loaded quarrel as thick as a stool leg, steel tipped and ready for release. Additionally, the barmaid, slightly bent over, busily making another ready, her face excited at the prospect. Her breasts bouncing in rhythm as her arms feverishly cranked the attached winch.

“Take it outside or I will drop you both!” he commanded.

Those in line with the crossbow’s proposed path of release, slid off their chairs and ducked under their tables.

Redmoor eyed Charis and used his sword to point her towards the Inn’s door.

“I and those with me will exit by another door and meet you outside,” Charis stated.

“So, you choose to run then!”

“No, we will meet, I just don’t trust you to walk in front of you or your friends and I wish to place a bet on myself before I leave the Inn.”

Bellowing deep laughter burst from his lips, he needed to bend over and grasp his belly, in fact. His two companions joined in although not as enthusiastically.

Charis placed a bet of fifty coins on the bar in the care of the Innkeeper, who offered one to ten odds. Regardless of her armour she was a girl, no battle scars and daggers for weapons. Her opponent a battle-scarred veteran using a sword, with greater reach, not forgetting his height advantage as well. The fifty coins covered by other patrons eager to take the bet. The transactions concluded before either party exited the Inn.

Charis and Helice approached from the stables and witnessed most if not all the Inn’s patrons tumble and jostle out of the Inn and spill onto the street. They climbed on the horseless wagons for a better view, while new passers-by joined the throng, curious, excitedly updated by any they asked. The Innkeeper finished drawing a large circle in the dirt, the edges a body length away from the building fronts on either side of the trail. He stood and after confirming both combatants present, placed both his thumbs in his belt, lent back on his heels and prepared his best travelling troupe posture and voice.

“The fight remains in the circle, whomever steps out loses and while a coward, will still keep their life. Once first blood is drawn the one cut can honourably surrender and bets paid out. Even if both are cut, both can refuse to surrender, possibly resulting in death if the fight continues. Do you both understand?”

Charis nodded curtly as did Redmoor. His two companions stood beside him, eyeing off Helice and whispering in his ear. Helice stood near her Mistress on her right-hand side and amazingly the boy child followed them out of the Inn and stood on Charis’ left-hand side.

“Step into the circle and when I drop this cloth, begin.”

Charis stepped forward as did her opponent. Charis didn’t watch the Innkeeper for the cloth drop, she asked Helice to inform her. Charis focused on her opponent.

“Hold this madness!”

Those gathered turned to witness the Captain of the Town Guard, escorted by a troop of six, horsed, steadily pushing forward the crowd parting before them.

“What is the meaning of this? Fighting in the streets is unlawful … Charis?” his voice finished weakly, surprised.

Charis didn’t take her eyes off her opponent, “I am a little busy Captain, I will talk to you when I am finished.”

The crowd cheered and hooted, raising fists in celebration.

“I mean to stop this madness, cease and disperse, return to the Inn or your travels, this fight is over!” the Captain shouted. The Town Guard on watch from the New Gate spied the crowd forming and called out a troop to investigate.

“I don’t mean to undermine your command Captain. Please remember I answer to the Duchess and by the time you travel to the capital and return I suspect the fight will be over.” Charis noted with satisfaction as Redmoor took a miniscule swallow, he obviously didn’t believe her title, all the better the victory as men always underestimated Charis the Young.

“I will appeal to your opponent,” raising his voice he continued, “You sir, I offer you the protection of the Town Guard if you wish to withdraw from this madness.”

“Redmoor will never be called a coward, I will teach this girl a lesson, which she won’t live to benefit from.”

“So be it.” The Captain dismounted, signalled to one of his troop to gather their horses and tether them, while the balance of the troop spread out around the fight circle.

“Any deceit and the Town’s Guard will intervene. Innkeeper, odds on Charis?”

“One to five Sir Captain.”

Charis raised an eyebrow at the shortening of the odds, remaining silent.

“I am no Sir, I offer ten coins on Charis at those odds.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd as most needed to recalculate their assumption.

The once Captain of the Lonely Keep Guard rejected the icy chill climbing up his spine as the realisation struck him he possibly misjudged his mark. He glanced at his two accomplices and then back at his opponent. Since being discharged by the Lord of the Lonely Keep they scoured the Dukedom for easy marks, young, richly armed and armoured and called them out on points of honour or insult. Once defeated they would claim compensation from their victims, live off the ill-gotten coin and then find another.

This one, this challenge required little effort, in fact it seemed his victim knew him, surprised to silence in fact, which is why her second announced her. He was now sure having considered the events leading him to this point. He stared into her eyes and found death, no quarter, he would need to kill her or suffer a wound and surrender, no other option seemed on offer.

“She means to kill you Captain, she has suffered no distractions, her eyes are on you,” whispered Geresal.

Redmoor opened his mouth to snarl a retort and then decided to save his breath and remained silent.

“We will avenge you Captain, be sure of that,” offered Lurcas.

Even these dogs of men didn’t believe he stood a chance! She is a girl dammit, with daggers! What did everyone else know?

Another disturbance! Oh, dog shit, two more female warriors, spear and shield, same armour and cloak, followed by two more spear and shield, ordinary armour. So, she has followers, they can mourn for her when she dies. Both Geresal and Lurcas placed a hand each on one of his shoulders, what now?

Two additional female warriors, sword and shield, ordinary armour, one tall and lanky her reach easily matched his he judged. She wasn’t the reason for his companion’s reassurance or sympathy, the one with her, slightly shorter perhaps, plainly was. Muscular and manly, worse still, as she drew her plain sword to wave people back, her grip, her wrist work and forearm strength, illustrated to all her weapon clearly being a natural and instinctive extension of her, she wielded death. His opinion confirmed when others assessed her and drew back, the single spectator immune, the Captain of the Town Guard. His eyes focused, admiring her skill!

--- [Redmoor 1st Person POV]

The slap on my back draws me back to my purpose. Charis the Young is charging at me. Before I take a step, she is half way across the circle. I dart left to make her adjust her line of attack. Who charges with daggers, even if one of them is longer? I swing my sword awkwardly while dashing further away to fend her off and avoid her charge, I can’t allow her to manoeuvre inside my guard, my sword’s reach being my greatest advantage.

She contests the ownership of my sword, it is trapped in the strange longer dagger, unexpected. I grip my sword in both hands to defeat her capture and avoid her second dagger by rolling my shoulder back, her dagger thrust slicing through air less than a finger width above my flesh. In the end I consider I manage it easily and we both set into a guard position. I considered drawing my dagger as well and dismiss it, instead I choose surprise, I pass off my sword to my left hand and strike at her ordinary dagger and manage to slice through her leather glove. Success.

“Charis the Young, you wish to surrender at first blood?” shouts the Innkeeper.

In answer to his question, she swaps her daggers, my sword once again faces the strange dagger.

‘Dog shit’. I curse under my breath, no surrender then! I also note she doesn’t manoeuvre to expose her back to my two companions, she shuffles back around the circle, untrusting bitch. Time to force her and bring my special advantage into play. I change my sword back to my right hand, my right arm stronger, to ensure I can resist her entrapping dagger.

Utilising my reach, I herd her towards my companions, she entraps my sword twice and tries to bleed me with her other dagger and both times I dodge easily and extract my sword. Perhaps the death in her eyes at the start has now watered down to first blood, cold feet maybe? Perhaps she hasn’t killed before? I press forward with this thought in mind, driving with my strength trapping her at the edge of the circle. Lurcas leans in to helpfully push her away from the edge.

She rolls her shoulder away and her body follows through rolling to my left, I pause in shock, my sword point dropping in response while trying to process her escape, does she possess eyes in the back of her head? No one avoids our treachery, how did she? A wet spray hits my face, I instinctively blink, jerking my face away from the source, then I taste coppery blood. A piercing scream echoes around the gathered circle of spectators. I recognise the source of the scream as Lurcas. His hand with the needle exposed lay at my feet by way of explanation. My stomach sickens due to many reasons.

I quickly wipe my face with the back of my free hand in time to deflect the trap dagger high with my sword, realising too late this is a feint. With my down thrust she allows me to stab her shoulder, the point pierces the boiled leather armour and then stops. I desperately push, body behind my strength to overcome this resistance and curse again as she turns her shoulder freeing my sword causing me to overreach, my sword passing over her shoulder. I am drawn near enough to glimpse the now exposed metal under the leather.

‘Dog shit!’ I am too close to her.

Committed to the follow through I twist my body to fall away from her, however I am stopped in my escape as my left foot at that moment refuses to budge, trapped under hers not that I realise it at the time. Unexpectedly I find myself exposed to her blade as it thrusts into my throat, the cold steel penetrating the soft leather armour there and slicing into my flesh. My blood bubbling forth from around the blade lodged in my neck, as I gurgle and choke I taste its iron sweetness as it fills my mouth. I realise too late she was setting me up from the start, a shoulder wound would allow me to surrender, she planned for and used my instinct to avoid injury to end everything in one fatal strike. I desperately fumble for the dagger at my belt, willing my body to one last effort to take this cunning bitch with me!

Her hand falls upon mine and my dagger remains trapped in its sheath, my sword falls from my grasp as my hand numbs and my grip falters, the swords weight beyond me as my life ebbs away. She leans her body forward and whispers, her warm breath feathering my ear with each word.

“You slew my innocent companion, pushed him with your horses and left him for dead. Justice.”

My body collapses and unknown to Charis I die before I can recall the murder she accuses me of.

---

A chill breeze eddies dust around two prone bodies, the associate to both struggling against the crowd, probing for freedom and escape. The crowd more interested in inspecting the aftermath of the contest, encroaching now upon the circle, its line being kicked and scuffed, the trail returning to its purpose and the battle arena no more.

None can approach the victor, her followers, one more than the others, intimidates any who attempt to. Disappointed some turned their attention to the Innkeeper for winnings, others return to the Inn to drink and savour the memory, the rest continue their journey appreciating the delay.

“The wound isn’t deep Mistress, the bandage is secure,” advised Astera.

Charis opened her eyes, they weren’t closed due to the obvious pain, they were closed remembering her travelling companion, an innocent dreaming of his future, slain while in her impotent company. Someone happy with life, oblivious to the real cruelty of existence and the fight for survival. Charis quickly used the back of her bandaged hand to wipe the moisture from her eyes.

“Well played Charis the Young! I welcome the bonus pay your victory earnt for me!” The Captain of the Town Guard astride his horse, yelled to her waving his sword high above his head in celebration. He rode off, his troop of six following, equally rewarded, eager to tell the tale first when they returned to Town.

“I secured our winnings also Mistress,” announced Helice. Charis stared into her eyes, holding them, studying them, until Helice lowered them as her cheeks warmed, her seer gift tentatively groping for Charis’ mind while trying to discern her Mistress’ intent. Warmth enveloped Helice’s entire body as Charis opened her mind revealing her clear intent to her bodyguard.

“You were magnificent Mistress!” shouted Jocasta joyfully. Her skinny young body crashing into Charis, her thin arms wrapping around Charis’ waist waking her from her trance.

Charis absently returned the hug and then realising her duty, picked Jocasta up and twirled her around.

“We acquired another waif for you, if you deem him worthy? Stop staring child and meet your caretaker. Obey her in all things.”

“He must be entranced by my beauty Mistress. I will see if he can make the mark, Sister Clymene sent me here for him. I saw the whole thing. In the Inn and from the roof of the Inn, I didn’t miss a moment.” Jocasta strengthened her hug.

The boy stiffly nodded his head to acknowledge Jocasta. Jocasta glanced at Charis, shrugged and waved her hand for him to follow. As Jocasta skipped away, he hastened to follow, never her equal, always trailing behind. Charis never vetted any of Jocasta’s friends and she didn’t know anything about this boy, yet Jocasta didn’t protest taking him in.

The horses neighing, and stomping of their hooves returned Charis to her surrounds. The three warrior sister pairs were mounted and ready to leave. Charis thanked them for their timely arrival and they were soon kicking up dust behind them as they galloped for the Town’s New Gate.

“We need to collect our horses and return to the farm,” Charis said, stating the obvious as they were both heading in the direction of the stables.

“Mistress … I am your body guard I simply did my duty, I can’t explain …” Helice stopped flustered. Charis slowed, about faced and closed the distance between them. Charis lent in to whisper beside Helice’s ear.

“I know your presence when you are in my mind, this, what happened today was more.” Charis’ warm moist breath danced along Helice’s neck as she spoke, calling forth goose bumps and deeper carnal sensations.

“You triggered your magic using your will to enhance your skill and when you did I couldn’t resist your call. I wasn’t with you in a Seer sense, like when Rhea and Raisa could ‘occupy’ each other’s body, it was more occasional, purely what you needed, my vision to detect the coward behind you, my skill with the trap dagger when it would make a difference, ambidextrous use, my added strength to secure his foot in place and my flexibility perhaps to ensure his blade struck a steel panel under the leather.” Helice’s face went blank, she could offer no more explanation.

Silence, while the dust swirled around them, the occasional traveller casting their eyes over them and then ignoring two women embracing, still as a statue. The trail clear of other sights, such as bodies, claimed at contest end by the Town Guard for disposal.

“Mistress we spend much time together,” Helice blushed unrestrained, no longer caring, “and we are further linked by the elvish magic in the items we attune. Also, I consider us friends in the deepest sense, my sister and your father, sharing our healing of our terrible loss.”

The warmth of Charis’ tears as they gushed down Helice’s neck confirmed Charis’ agreement with her words and their importance.

“Your will called for an outcome and the items found a source to draw from, I suspect it was as simple as that, I wasn’t given a choice Mistress, although I am pleased with the discovery.”

Charis gently pushed until released and strode directly to the stable corral, untied their horses and returned to Helice, the horses in tow.

“The man I slew revealed a weakness in me when we first met, an impotence, I couldn’t defend myself and I certainly couldn’t defend anyone in my company. I doubt he recognised me, although I recognised him and his two brigands. I became overtaken by the thought of revenge, emotion ruled me because the boy he and his troop accidently killed while hunting for me was the innocent of innocents. I drew on a deep, dark well of rage Helice and when finished, the boy is still dead, and I felt emptier than ever before.”

Charis mounted her horse and waited for Helice to mount hers.

“In the moment after, when you touched my mind, the presence of many people around us and this public place stayed my need to fill the hollow and allowed me enough self-control to resist what you sensed I wanted to do. Each passing heartbeat since reduced that need further, so I can now say with some assurance, you are safe from me.” With that said, Charis kicked her horse to a trot, riding for the farm.

When Helice peeked behind the curtain of her Mistress’ mind she feared and embraced the salvation revealed to her. Would she survive days and nights of love making to fill Charis’ empty soul with Charis reinvigorating them until the magic drained? Not solely Charis’ magic; every item of magic of every sister, Charis envisioned calling upon every drop of magic until exhausted such was her immediate depth of despair.

As Helice galloped to catch up, she noticed Charis, seated on her horse, now still and poised under the tree.

---

“Mistress, stop. Don’t look up, spur your horse to face the Inn. Please Mistress.”

Charis didn’t recognise the voice, still if they wanted her dead or injured it would occur without warning. Charis did plan though to chop this tree down; its presence was now twice a bane to her. Charis followed the instructions of the voice.

“Thank you, Mistress.” There was relief in the voice.

“We intended to return as our oath demanded, you must believe me Mistress. When we were setting up the story to send the apprentices back alone, they told us all were commanded to return and report in person.”

Helice joined Charis and reined in beside her. Charis quickly nodded upwards and realisation dawned upon Helice followed by a slow shake of her head and a disbelieving smile.

“We needed to maintain our illusion of loyalty and return with the apprentices. The Mother Superior or possibly her twin, we met in the city face to face, the three of us extremely worried and concerned as this was not usual. She wanted to personally assign us to our next mission. To kill you Mistress.”

When Charis didn’t comment or react the voice continued.

“The Mother Superior is acting on behalf of someone else we sense. When we reported, she didn’t care about your interference as the witness was killed and the investigation closed.”

“Given that I am still breathing your oath to me is still binding you?”

“Yes Mistress, we are honoured to serve you, we wish to step from the shadows as Daughters of the Duchess, protected by the second highest power in the land and in the company of a leader who values our honour as much as she values her own and who defeats her opponents with single minded purpose.”

“How did you find out I would ride this way, today, now?” Charis asked, leaving the last of the assassin’s words to vanish on the wind.

“We established three watches, one outside the House, one on the Gate House and one on the Crossroads. We study and observe to begin with to try and discern a pattern to use against the target.”

“So, regardless of who found the opportunity our conversation would be the same?”

“Perhaps. There aren’t many places to talk to someone else unobserved, possibly my sisters would pass a note to you, asking you to ride past this tree. For all I know it could explain your presence here, now, although given your surprise I imagine we are just lucky.”

“Not lucky, I was looking for you also, I needed to discover where your loyalty lay.”

“Very dangerous Mistress, even without observation if an opportunity presented you would be assassinated.”

“Maybe but I am difficult to kill. How many Assassin Threes would we need to kill before the Mother Superior deems it too expensive to keep sending assassins?”

“I am not sure Mistress,” a sadness drowned her voice as she continued without faltering, “if you would claim us after our deaths as your own and honour us we would willingly die …”

Charis growled an immediate response, “No! I don’t throw life away easily, yours or mine.”

A relieved voice replied, “Thank you, Mistress. I will be certain to advise my assassin sisters. We realise ‘there is better’ now and are desperate to escape the service of the Mother Superior and willing to pay any cost.”

“You are single Seers and still own your robes I assume. Letters of Release also?”

“Yes, to both questions Mistress.”

“Two options then, either convince the Mother Superior and her Sponsor I am dead or convince the Mother Superior her first assassins were killed, and she will then need to send another Three and so on. I could live in secret except no matter how well this is done, eventually my miraculous survival will be revealed, and we won’t know when and we need you and your sisters with us, so you aren’t questioned. So, I propose we need to defeat you, substitute bodies, burn them quick and then recruit three single Seers join us.”

Charis completed her analysis, putting her hand down to stop herself tapping her chin.

“When are you expected to make your attempt upon my life?” Charis asked.

“We normally observe for at least three days, although for you we could easily stretch to seven days. We need to send coded updates to the Mother Superior using the Temple of Saph as ordinary citizens.”

“We will use this tree to drop off messages to each other, search for one on Day Three and one on Day Seven as I don’t want too much traffic going to this tree. Is there a place for a note?”

“Yes Mistress, near the centre, a rock will secure it, although you will need to stand in your stirrups to reach it.”

“Also, that means either you or one of your Three will need to visit the Temple on occasion?”

“Yes, although disguised. No one will identify us, I assure you Mistress.”

“I am suggesting if there is an emergency, drop off a message to any child who is standing near the Shrine of Saph. It should, with some luck reach us.”

“Only if you are sure Mistress? Any child you say?”

“By day three, yes, wait until then to leave a note. On day seven, suggest the Daughters need to escort the Seer to the Lonely Keep, to force me to reveal myself. We need to leave, apart from loitering too long Helice looks silly pretending to talk to me.” There was no answer as they rode off to the farm.

Charis’ mood returned to one of happiness, a smile from ear to ear. The lifting of the burden of their possible disloyalty a greater joy now than the fading dark ordeal of emptiness she returned from after her rage. The loyalty of the assassins seemed reaffirmed, therefore Charis needed to organise and quickly.

---

Charis called Dione over to her while her students rested.

“You need to leave with Zoe and Alcmene on a ten-day camp. Alcmene will arrive with the required supplies after dusk today, set off before dawn. Between Maplethorn and Needlepines I need you to set up a camp to watch the trail. While you establish a watch on the trail I need you to prepare three female bodies for burning and a pyre to burn them on. I will send more detail with Alcmene.”

“Yes Mistress, where will I find three female bodies?”

“You need to find suitable bodies within seven days, visit the villages, Farstay, Maplethorn and Oxrest and claim any dead going to a poor grave. Younger is better, if your pyre is well fuelled the bones should be difficult to examine to determine the age of the person.”

“Let us hope they don’t burn the poor.”

“Firewood is more expensive than digging a shallow grave and covering it with dirt, therefore I am hopeful.”

“It will be done Mistress, I will advise Zoe now.”

Charis then visited Agape and Ismene.

“Ismene and Agape I need you to stay overnight at the farm, for at least the next seven days. You will need to escort Niobe and protect her. Please search through the weapons and armour in the barn to ensure you equip proper fitting armour and the best weapons you can find.”

“Yes Mistress.”

Charis then called upon the farmer.

“I need a few warrior-sisters to stay overnight on the farm for the next seven days, is that possible?”

“Yes, and we will feed them also, on my honour,” he finished with a smile.

“They will pay for their food. Death Season is upon us and I will not allow any of mine taking food from your family’s mouths.”

“Thank you, you don’t need to. I understand Death Season is unpredictable though and some coin for a farmer is always welcome.”

Charis then called Helice to her, they needed to ride back to the Town. They left their weapons at the Gate House and stabled their horses. Charis called in to the Master Leatherworker and organised a set of armour and cloak, she promised pickup in two days. Most of the pieces were standard, the chest piece though would require fitting given the rather short future wearer. Charis decided to send Niobe as she knew about her future honour and a closer fit yielded better protection. The Master Leatherworker insisted Charis' chest piece remain to be repaired also.

The sun low in the sky, cast long shadows when Charis and Helice returned to the House. Charis needed to make sure she didn’t leave the House now under any circumstances for at least seven days.

Charis striding into the Training Room brought an instant halt to activity and immediate silence. Scanning the room, a slow-motion response unfolded with each warrior sister resting their practice weapons and proudly converging upon their Mistress. Each sister halted before her and in turn softly held her injured hand and lightly kissed it.

“What are you all stupid!” The elder’s words tore through the solemn ad hoc ceremony causing them all, including Nysa to retreat to the safety of training. Unknown to their sisters Astera and Thyia scurried back up the circular stairs instead of following through with their plan of joining their sisters, when they heard her words.

“Sit at a table and show me your hand foolish girl.” The elder then set out her ointments and herbs and with her little finger indicated to Charis, which of them to invigorate with her magic. The bandage was removed and the elder completed her examination of the wound when Charis finished.

“If I thought there was a chance of you resting over the next few days, I wouldn’t stitch the wound, unlikely of course, consequently prepare for some pain girl.”

The elder took needle and gut thread to the wound and seven stiches later accompanied by a chewed leather strap, now spat out of Charis’ mouth the first step was administrated. The elder applied an ointment and wrapped the wound in a fresh bandage. She then tsked, tsked picked up her ointments and herbs and vanished back to her room.

“Helice please fetch Astera and Thyia, I am afraid to leave my prison chair,” Charis said, her mouth then curving into a smile.

Charis then snuck off to a table in the Kitchen glancing over her shoulder checking for her nurse. Alcmene, Clymene and Niobe were preparing the evening meal.

“Helice has already told us Mistress and preparations are completed,” responded Alcmene.

“Alcmene when you leave tonight, make it right on dusk to ensure you are the last to ride through the Gate. Take care.”

“Yes Mistress, I will be careful.”

“Tomorrow Clymene I will need you to teach horse riding instead of Dione. Zoe has another duty as well.”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Niobe, you need to visit the Master Leatherworker, then return to the House. Then I need you to ride to the farm. Don’t stop for anyone or anything, understood? Contact your sister when you are safe.”

“Yes Mistress, as you command.”

“Clymene never leave the farm, once horse-riding training is done return to the House and never leave the House, you must stay with me to pass messages to your sisters.”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Now I need to find our youngest,” Charis said.

“I am here Mistress, I adore the Kitchen as it always has food.”

“Could you and your friends loiter near the Shrine of Saph for at least the next eight to ten days without anyone noticing?”

“Yes Mistress, we could play, beg for food, beg for coin, many things using many of my friends.”

“Someone in disguise, so I can’t describe them, could approach you with a message. All I told them is to pass a note to a child who is near the Shrine of Saph if they need to urgently contact me.”

“Before you say it, I understand Mistress.”

Charis smiled with delight.

“Also, I will be careful. I am learning knife throwing, so I can slow at least one person chasing me!”

“Sometimes throwing daggers at someone makes them irate and when they catch you they will hurt you because you aren’t a child anymore.”

“Sometimes people hurt children just because they can, so I want an option.”

Charis didn’t reply, instead she placed a knowing hand on her shoulder.

“Is the boy working out?”

“He is odd, I catch him staring at me often, so I will need to speak to him, harshly. I can’t be bothered with usual back and forth, you know Mistress, me asking, him denying.”

Charis blinked, understanding her position. As if reading her mind and perhaps she did, Helice placed an apple and some salted meat before Charis, insisting she indulge in an evening meal.

The warrior sister pairs presented before her in turn, ushered in by Helice.

“Astera and Thyia I need you to train every waking bell in the training room upstairs. You also need to guard the floor as well. So, sleep, eat, train and guard. In five days’ time, rest as I may need you to ride hard on the sixth day.”

“Yes, Mistress it will be done!”

“Kyra, Nysa, Dirce and Drosis same for you, in this Training Room.”

“Yes Mistress.”

Charis rose from her table and immediately received a ‘look’ from Helice and immediately plopped back down, defeated. The elder spoke to her most probably.

“Fetch Otonia please.”

Charis finished her apple while she waited.

“Otonia, I need you to conduct your class at the farm as some of the warrior-sisters will leave and I need to ensure the number count there is kept.”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Helice, please check every door and secure them and ensure all warrior-sisters are present.”

“Yes Mistress.”

Charis ate quickly, nervously, what did I miss she thought to herself as she tore at the salted meat. Then a rough slice of rye bread covered in a thin spread of honey appeared before her.

“Take care of yourself Mistress, a treat,” said Niobe, who quickly dashed back to her duties.

---

Charis decided her day was done and trudged to the Bath Room to clean off the dust and perhaps relax. After some relaxation she could ponder some more about what she possibly missed. On day eight she would need to leave the House and then the game would begin, she hoped, according to her plan and no other.

Dirce and Drosis joined her in the bath their naked forms pushing a ripple of water before them as they approached. Careful with their Mistress’ wounded hand they tended to her in as many ways as she requested. Charis relaxed and satisfied stepped out of the bath, Dirce and Drosis dried her meticulously. Charis wordlessly embraced them both, separated and then carried her underclothe in her arms up to her room.

“You don’t require us to dress you Mistress?” asked Dirce.

“No, I will lay naked tonight. A short walk without clothes will save you some labour.”

“Do you want your armour delivered to your room when cleaned?”

“No leave it here I will return in the morning.”

“Yes Mistress.”