--- (The Cleft 13th Day of Dark Month)

Zoe strolled arm in arm with Jocasta towards the campfire, flames dancing high due to the well cut and stacked logs, the wind non-existent. Seers eagerly added brushwood to the conflagration forcing the surrounding snow to melt and converting the nearby ground into a mush. Staring at the bonfire, the Seers warmed their hands, then reached various stages of undress to dry their various furs, clothes and robes while bright sunlight shone upon their exposed flesh.

Jocasta looked up at Zoe. “You would think they never get out into the wilds.”

“Perhaps more than that, my return confirms they won’t be wielding spears and possibly dying today,” replied Zoe, after noticing the neat stack of two-handed spears set aside from the bonfire.

A pair of arms draped themselves around Zoe and before she could react, Niobe danced away laughing cheerily.

“We are happy to see your return sister and overjoyed when the howl called to the wolves and they slunk away shortly after, instead of attacking us,” said Alcmene, who settled for a gentle hug, winking at Jocasta.

“Be sure to tell Astera I am now marked prey, the pack leader drew and smelt my blood.”

Alcmene held Zoe at arm’s length, a firm grasp on her shoulders, searching. “Sister are you injured?”

“No. No, although I do believe we may have found an ally, especially if an enemy radiates evil,” said Zoe.

Jocasta quirked her head at Zoe. “How do you talk to a wolf?”

Alcmene raised an eyebrow and held Zoe’s gaze.

“More of a feeling than a discussion, so sorry to disappoint if you imagined I could talk to wolves.” Zoe ruffled Jocasta’s hair slightly, while Alcmene’s eyes momentarily rolled back.

“Apologies, it seems the Mistress wishes for the Seers to return and you dear Zoe to continue on with Zosime and Jocasta.”

Zoe nodded towards the bonfire. “While I don’t believe they are drunk on ale, I do believe they are celebrating their survival, freedom and clean mountain air and you may have to convince the Mistress to await their arrival after dusk.”

“Clymene has already petitioned the Mistress on the basis they need to use this fine daylight for their Items so you will have our company a little while longer.”

Alcmene grabbed Zoe’s hand and dragged her towards the circle of dancing Seers. Jocasta’s attempt to stay on the sidelines thwarted when Zoe snatched at her hand and dragged her in. Her half-hearted resistance for show; overwhelmed to be invited and join the circle of her older sisters.

The romance of dancing in a circle around a bonfire didn’t last long, the slush and mud, still cold regardless of the melt tended to reach uncomfortable nether reaches or splattered up soiling otherwise perfectly clean garments. As the dance circle broke up sisters retreated in ones or twos, making a bed out of the cut brush, stacking the cuttings on clean white snow and throwing a fur over for comfort. Others cleared the brush and laid upon the tree trunk ‘wall’.

---

As the huge orange ball of the sun sunk in the West behind Hillperch the Seers bid Zosime, Zoe and Jocasta farewell and in turn transferred back to the Caverns. Zoe and Jocasta prepared the camp for another night behind the makeshift wall of tree trunks, dragging them closer still to the cliff face.

Zoe woke Zosime at change of shift as arranged. Once Zoe’s eyes closed, she didn’t reach a deep sleep; restless would be a kind assessment, her mind dreaming, unable to find the peace of slumber, flashes of night and blood raced across the various macabre scenes entering her imagination. Zosime woke her twice from concern and after the second time even Jocasta woke as Zoe yelped and howled. Jocasta joined Zoe and shared her bedroll. After words of comfort and gentle cuddling Zoe relaxed enough to find peace.

+++

Jocasta woke at first light and untangled herself from Zoe’s embrace – somehow during the night they rolled over, Jocasta’s embrace of Zoe becoming Zoe’s embrace of Jocasta, her security blanket or cuddly toy perhaps. Zoe’s makeshift lacings holding her furs and clothes together loosening to reveal dried blood.

“Sister, please … please,” said Jocasta, scrambling away from Zoe, pointing. Pain and torment, common to her, death as well. Blood? Blood on one she thought of as sister. Could a sister die? Be slain? She convinced herself her witnessing death a thing of her past.

Zosime rushed to her side and followed the line of her pointing finger. Dried blood, plentiful and more than a scratch worth. Pulling the cleanly sliced clothing halves apart, Zosime revealed Zoe’s chest, four healed pink scars running to each breast. Zosime dropped to her haunches and grabbed a crawling Jocasta to her, wrapping an arm around her shivering shoulder. They both stared in silence at the unusual sight, blood and pain certainly and then healing. They wouldn’t have accepted the evidence of healing except they knew one other who could heal.

The cold of the morning upon her naked chest tickled Zoe awake. She looked about lost for a moment, weary, her hand feeling about, settling on a now vacant warmth. Missing her security blanket perhaps. Her bloodshot eyes then centred upon Zosime and Jocasta and realising her exposure, wrapped her chest back into cover, re-joining the two halves of her clothing, eyes moistening.

“You have no right! This is my secret, mine!” she shouted, looking from Zosime to Jocasta in turn, her tearing eyes accusing.

Hinting to Jocasta, preparing her, Zosime dropped forward off her haunches, her face a hand width away from Zoe’s. Eyes locked, Zosime reached down to Zoe’s hands and with a soft touch drew her sister’s hands and clothing apart. Zosime kissed Zoe on each cheek sampling her rolling tears in the act and then drew back slightly to caress each of Zoe’s scars with a tender kiss.

Zosime looked up, Zoe’s eyes closed, gentle sobs hitching her chest.

“We are stronger together sister, you don’t need to endure this horror alone.”

As Zoe’s eyes opened, Jocasta stepped forward and wrapped a youthful arm around each of her sisters adding her tears.

The horses whined, shaking their heads and pulling on their staked tethers.

Zosime’s head broke free of their shared embrace and through watery eyes spied a girl approach their camp. Zosime stood, leaving Jocasta to hold Zoe. Fully armoured she drew a dagger while advancing cautiously to intercept their intruder, while scanning the surrounds.

A slim athletic creature, human with pale to white skin and silvery blonde hair cascading out of sight down her back. Her clothing a simple grey one-piece smock, shoulder to knee and her feet bare to the cold and snow. Goosebumps on her shivering flesh, her eyes wide as she sighted Zosime stomping towards her.

Zosime slowed, sheathing her dagger as the girl hunched her shoulders over, closed her eyes and tucked her head upon her chest, in preparation, resigned to her fate.

A cloak swings about the girl’s shoulders and then her body is wrapped in a supportive embrace as the one who holds her, guides her towards their camp and their low burning campfire. The campfire being stoked by a young girl, perhaps child she surmises. Another, eyes red, meets her captor and herself at the campfire offering clothes, a couple of furs and a spare pair of boots. The three strangers hold their silence, and none look directly at her.

With a hushed word of thanks, the girl stepped into the offered boots and dressed herself in the offered clothes, edging herself closer to the campfire. The child wordlessly offering her a morsel of dried meat and portion of cheese.

Zoe drifts away from the campfire, finding herself tending and preparing the horses.

“An unwelcome interruption for sure.” Zosime wrapped Zoe within her arms, resisting Zoe’s attempts to struggle free. “Lean on my love sister, take strength from me.”

“I acted brave, sister … death stalked me … and then at some point I trusted. How could I trust so easily?” said Zoe, as she turned within Zosime’s embrace and laid her head upon Zosime’s chest.

Zosime’s hand drifted into Zoe’s hair resting upon the back of her head. “No choice. I know this sensation. I am bound to Charis through her healing of me, flattered at first, she quickly realised my pain and my ecstasy and always apologised. She healed Niobe and her ardour cooled because Charis’ healing skill by then became more exacting, she once explained.” Zosime teared.

“Your brave heart is hammering sister, so perhaps we both need to support each other,” whispered Zoe.

“We best re-join Jocasta and our guest,” murmured Zosime.

Neither sister broke their embrace, remaining beside the horses.

---

Jocasta studied the girl. Her shaking hands grasping the food, mouthful after mouthful. Her chest hitching occasionally. Her eyes forward, staring at the fire. Zoe and Zosime silently disappeared in the direction of the horses and perhaps their visitor didn’t realise. Jocasta knew cold and hungry, she lived cold and hungry for many seasons. She didn’t read any desperation in their guest.

A bell passed in silence, when Zoe and Zosime joined Jocasta staring at the back of the girl. Before long the girl seemed to make a decision with an exaggerated rise and fall of her shoulders; regaining control over of her shivering only blemished by the occasional twitch. She spoke her words to the flames.

“I was to be sacrificed by a man in dark robes,” she sobbed. “I saw your fire last night and marked its position against the back of the mountain range. He can’t see well in the daylight and when the wind went overnight, I realised this morning was my chance. My mother always sewed little blades into our dress hems, they folded over, blade into metal sleeve, a trick her grandmother passed down to her as her grandmother did to her. With this blade I cut the ropes that held me and ran. I didn’t look back. I ran in the direction of the mountain range hoping I would find you hereabouts.”

“Do you know if he follows?” asked Zoe.

Zosime drew her own conclusion about her story, blades in dress hems? Finding their camp by running up the mountain range? Amazing if true.

“I don’t, but the man in dark robes doesn’t like daylight and the strange men who followed his orders didn’t talk, one of which led me by the rope that bound me.”

Zoe glanced at Zosime’s rolled back eyes, both recognising the need to warn their Mistress.

“We suspect an evil priest is travelling towards the Cavern sister,” sent Zosime.

“How can you be sure?” sent Clymene.

“Zoe and I aren’t sure, although we have a frail girl, a runaway in our camp describing one as her captor.”

Jocasta took one look at both sisters, shook her head and wandered off in the direction of the horses.

“Come on girl, time we left on our journey,” said Zoe.

The girl’s red eyes looked over her shoulder. “Pandra, my name is Pandra.”

---

With little wind to worry them, Zosime and Jocasta on one horse, trailing the spare horse and Zoe and Pandra on a second horse, they kept to the high ground and travelled along the length of the mountain spur in the direction of Farstay. With Borrow Gems Zoe and Zosime continued into the night, they wanted to travel at least half of the night figuring that even if the Evil Priest travelled well at night and he followed they would meet him in the morning when most disadvantaged.

No campfire, and bedrolls laid close for warmth Zosime and Zoe took first sleep after Jocasta and Pandra offered to keep watch. Both young ones catching some haphazard sleep while in the saddle.

“You are young to be travelling in Death Season, aren’t you?” Pandra whispered to Jocasta.

Jocasta opened her mouth, keen to explain her need to train to be a bodyguard to her Mistress and her past, once of the slums and a street kid when she thought, who is this girl, why should I trust her with my story. Sensing Jocasta’s hesitation, Pandra posed a different question.

“I mean, I realise you are with your big sisters?” She left the question hang.

“We were hunting for game, Zoe teaching me, but now we are running from your dark robed man.” Jocasta finally answered.

“I am sorry, but I knew I would be killed or worse, sacrificed if I stayed his prisoner, so at seeing your fire it was my first opportunity of meeting others to help me escape. You can leave me in the first village we come across if you like, I am sure I will find my way back to my family, eventually.”

Jocasta caught Pandra’s sniffle as they both sat rugged up in their bedrolls, the dark of night surrounding them.

“My sisters will decide in the morning, for now we need to make sure we give warning to them if we are attacked so keep a look out your side while I do the same on mine.” Jocasta done with further discussion.

+++

Jocasta woke both Zosime and Zoe at pre-dawn while the girl attended to her ablutions. They decided to leave her in Farstay if they could. Jocasta relieved, she felt the girl peculiar in some way. Who sews little knives in dress hems on the off chance you will be kidnapped!

The four broke their fast, cleared their camp and rode away before first bell of the morning. The clearing weather helped, and they made good time approaching Farstay just after the middle of the day. Zoe led them past Farstay, descending the mountain range and returning to Farstay using the trail from the Lonely Keep, entering the village from the east and therefore close to the cottage being used when she last stayed.

Zosime dismounted and pushed open the cottage door, soon returning with a note.

“Relocated to better lodgings, third cottage on the village common in line with Shrine and Church.” read Zosime.

“Looks like we need to ride a little further,” offered Zoe.

---

Zosime stretched her legs pushing them up while bracing her booted feet in the strips all the while smiling at Zoe, who took the hint and dismounted.

About to rap on the door with her dagger, she meekly looked back at Zosime, red-faced. Zosime shrugged and waved a hand at the cottage door.

Zoe knocked three times with her dagger hilt. The pleasure noises within ceased immediately, followed by scrambling, and a couple of loud knocks and drops.

Silence.

Slightly red faced, not sure from embarrassment or exertion Otonia opened the cottage door inviting Zosime and Zoe into the cottage. Otonia lent against the cottage doorway staring at Jocasta and the other rider, about to call out to Zosime to explain, Jocasta spoke as she dismounted.

“Zoe wished to hunt as a three and the girl’s name is Pandra. She escaped from kidnappers.” Jocasta flicked her head towards Pandra inviting her into the cottage. Otonia nodded slowly. Jocasta hopeful she listened between the words.

Zoe popped out of the cottage. “Come on Jo we’ll stable these horses while Pandra introduces herself.”

Jocasta caught Zoe’s cheerful eyes, questioning and with no further answer forthcoming fell into line leading one horse while Zoe led the other two. When did Zoe think of her as ‘Jo’?

Otonia ushered Pandra into the cottage, scanning and appreciating the clear sky and then closing the cottage door behind them.

“I am not sure why you are uncomfortable, we know being alone you would need to occupy yourselves, although perhaps weapon practice would be equally draining and a better purpose!” said Zosime.

“We thought you were the Village Priest or his servants and he may not appreciate our developing friendship as much as we do!” answered Nysa, her rosy cheeks now feint.

“Well soon we return to Hillperch after some preparations are completed.” Zosime’s eyes narrowing, explaining without detail given their tag a long guest.

“No Zosime, not yet we have an important ceremony to attend in a few days’ time. It is not that we don’t appreciate the rescue, far from it, we just have some unfinished business.”

Kyra offered Zosime and their visitor a chair by the pot belly stove, placing a fresh cup of tea before each of them. Otonia remained near the doorway, while Nysa joined Kyra around the table.

“We need to make arrangements for the girl with us, so we can’t leave immediately in any case.” said Zosime drawing attention upon the girl, who instinctively shrank back under their gazes.

“Which village do you come from girl?” asked Nysa.

“I, well a long way from here, you probably haven’t heard of it before. It is on the southern side of Marbleknoll.” Her eyes fixed upon the cup of tea, as yet untouched.

“That is a general direction, we are looking for a name. That way we can find others heading the same way and ask if they would allow you to travel with them, even if it cost a small fee.”

“I would like to stay with you,” she whispered.

“Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. I am sure Zosime and Zoe were happy to rescue you and guide you back to this village, but you cannot expect more than what has been done, except to return you to your parents,” said Nysa, her words spoken with authority.

“I will be eighteen if I survive this Death Season, I am older than Jocasta and she travels with you,” she pouted, in response.

“We are not talking about Jocasta. We are talking about you. Your age doesn’t matter, it is something else and for us we need to return you to your parents. You understand?”

Raising her voice, she replied, “If I am always treated like the child that is all I will ever be! How am I ever to be more?”

“You were asked about your home village. An adult would have answered the question instead you act like a spoilt child. If you don’t allow us to return you to your parents, I will ask the village to care for you until you can be returned.”

The girl stood trembling. Glancing about the table, she recognised her rescuers determination and bolted for the cottage door, her chair knocked over in her haste. She halted before Otonia for a moment. Otonia opened the cottage door and waved her on. Frightfully confused she sprinted through the doorway and out into the snow.

None followed. Zoe and Jocasta the last to see her dash behind several cottages and then gone.

“She will return when cold or hungry or both,” offered Zoe.

In this village, everyone knew everyone else so if she asked for help, she would be known as a stranger and returned to the only new strangers in the village.

Jocasta nodded sagely, while internally she celebrated deciding Pandra immature or following a concocted plan now shattered and nothing. Perhaps something as simple as running away from her parents.

--- (The Cavern 14th Day of Dark Month)

“The Goblins have returned,” sent Alcmene to Hagne.

“Thank-you sister, no alert from Thais or Alexa?”

“Well … no, a good thing I would guess, they aren’t our enemies or mean us harm?”

Hagne drew the cowl of the robe about her head, to bury her face in the shadow and darkness of the Main Cavern. Hagne’s vision clear although colourless utilising her Borrow Gem.

The Head Goblin and his entourage shuffled through the Main Cavern Entrance cautiously, searching the dark depths as far as their night vision would allow. Hagne recognised the Head Goblin although those with him she couldn’t identify; unfortunately, all Goblins still looked alike even though she recognised the differences between their Goblins Sisters. As the Evil Priest, Hagne looked stern and waited for the Head Goblin to speak.

“Dark One, we offer the tribute you demand. Where do we place it?” The Head Goblin looked down clearly in reverence and awe of the powerful priest before him. His entourage did likewise.

Hagne just pointed to her feet, which the Head Goblin managed to catch sight of.

Hagne waited until the three small bags were at her feet and then signalled to the Head Goblin to stand. The other Goblins suitably concerned for their leader, if killed, would they be next.

“I will pretend to look and assess the bags and then I need you to lead your companions to the front of the Rock Wall as we have a special place for your tribe to leave the tribute,” said Hagne in a low voice.

“All with me are loyal to me so we can stop pretending if you wish?” replied the Head Goblin.

“Your companions, they look truly concerned for your safety, are they acting, or do you think your lives are in danger?”

“We are Goblins, our lives are always in danger, if we think that way we tend to live longer.”

The deadpan reply, a reflection of the true state of their existence and despite trying to remain stern Hagne bobbed her head in acknowledgement.

“I have been asked to offer your female Goblins back to you, if they would be accepted, somehow they escaped or weren’t found worthy of sacrifice perhaps.”

The Head Goblin yelped and waved his hands about. He collected himself before hissing a reply. “No! That can never happen! They can never be seen alive again by any of the tribe it would raise too many questions.”

The Goblin entourage scanned about them, exchanging low murmurings, their concern plain in reaction to the Head Goblin’s outburst.

Ismene observing from the Guard Post woke Astera and Thyia at the appearance of the Goblins. The Guard Post now large enough to house a double bunk, where Dirce and Drosis or Astera and Thyia slept to cover the three shifts. As they began armouring up their three Goblin sisters appeared from the Main Cavern.

Astera about to swear and curse, returning to her senses when she realised if the Goblin entourage spotted the three sneaks there would have been a commotion by now and therefore accepted their skilled assistance.

“Do you wish to return to your tribe? The Head Goblin that delivered you to us is here now?” Astera asked.

The three all shrunk down onto their hands and knees and in hushed tones pleaded in their language and while the words made no sense to Astera she understood.

“I cannot understand you, so I will take you to the Head Goblin so he can tell me what you are saying,” offered Astera.

The three Goblin Sisters exchanged worried looks, their chatter ceasing immediately. Astera knew for certain now they at least understood human speech. One of the Goblin Sisters nominated by the other two grovelled forwards until at Astera’s feet.

“We like here please Mistress.”

“Swear loyalty to me and my sisters and I will allow you to stay.”

“We will…”

Astera shook her head. “Each of you will swear loyalty, not one to swear for all. You understand?”

“I will swear to be loyal and serve Mistress and her tribe,” said Sweetears.

“I swear that I will not ask you to do something that will put your life in danger or do evil things to others and if we can my tribe and I will try to save you from any harm if it is within our power.”

Upon hearing a return oath for theirs the other Goblin Sisters could all manage human speech well enough to swear their own oath to Astera and the Daughters of the Duchess.

That done Astera told them to wait in the Guard Post. With Astera in the lead and Thyia following they marched into the Main Cavern. Upon their arrival the Goblin entourage retreated a step towards the Main Cavern Entrance, halting when the Head Goblin hissed a couple of hurried words. Astera smiled. Her friendliness didn’t seem to help.

Resigned to their nervous nature, she assured the Head Goblin the tribute would be honoured, and he didn’t need to fear them, the Warrior Sisters would honour the arrangement for as long as the Goblins did.

Astera and Thyia escorted the Goblins from the Main Cavern, thankfully the wind no longer howled, and the snow fall now light. Astera asked the Head Goblin to find the hidden nook in the Stone Curtain Wall. The Goblins sprang to the task enthusiastically, Astera suspicious as Thyia and her quickly bereft of company. Searching the Wall meant the Goblins could flee in any number of directions, to them the Main Cavern a trap, one entrance and therefore one exit. With the entire Goblin party searching, they quickly found the nook, which surprised Astera, nevertheless adding to her knowledge of Goblin skills and behaviours.

“This will be good, I will deliver the next tribute with others of the tribe and show them the tribute place, which they have to use and then quickly leave as the Dark Priests are too busy to be disturbed and will kill anyone who does disturb them.”

“All is well then?” confirmed Astera.

“Yes, we leave now while there is still much night to cover our return.”

The Goblins faded quickly into the night, making an almost direct line for the mountain range. With their night vision they probably thought the humans couldn’t see them. Astera noticed a couple look back, still nervousness and needing to confirm the humans weren’t going to kill them as they left.

Astera collected the tribute from Hagne testing the weight of each bag, satisfied the Head Goblin kept his word although convinced she didn’t think the tribute would be of great value.

“The coins could be useful to Ismene, Mistress,” said Hagne as she resumed her act as the Evil Priest.

Astera nodded and with Thyia delivered them to Ismene in the Guard Post instead of directly to the chest in the Seer’s Room under the “stage”.

“I will need good light Mistress, if we are to examine them now,” said Ismene.

“I will stand duty in the Guard Post,” offered Thyia. Astera slapped Thyia affectionately on her shoulder. Ismene and Astera then hurried to the Inner Cavern.

A wonderous assortment of coins fell out of the first bag, several Ismene recognised and many others she didn’t. Ismene clapped her hands in excitement. The second bag contained raw metals, some gold, some silver, mostly copper and then a couple of smoothed elongated slithers of a strange bronzed coloured metal. Testing a suspicion Astera held a slither between thumb and forefinger and tried to pierce her hardened leather armour. Not terribly surprised when with light pressure a shallow gash resulted confirming in her mind the metal she held, a match with the metal Otonia wielded.

The third bag contained a mix of items, a few cut gems and several uncut gems, none very large. Five pieces of modest jewellery; three with empty settings, two settings containing a small gem. A finger bone spilled out of the bag and also a small copper goblet. Neither items making much sense to either Astera or Ismene as they both took turns turning them over in their hands inspecting them before returning them to the bag. Astera regretted not talking to the Head Goblin about some of the items before letting him and his companions leave.

To Astera’s surprise the Goblin Sisters joined her and Ismene and began removing her armour and on a chance Astera let the contents of the third bag spill out its contents on the bunk she stood beside. The Goblin Sisters noticed and seeing their interest Astera asked if they knew anything about any of the items.

“No Mistress, some are made by our tribe, some are made by other tribes and some were stolen from humans. It is unusual for anyone to give up a finger bone as they’re from worthy enemies that they have defeated or helped defeat.”

Astera noticed one of the goblin-sisters taking a special interest in the goblet and asked her directly if she knew anything about it.

“My family’s goblet. I recognise ownership marks. This is instead of my sister being sent in tribute. Family’s goblet used to celebrate many things and for my family to give this up means they were forced to for some reason.” She wouldn’t say anymore. Astera approached her and gave her the goblet. She didn’t understand initially.

“This is your tribute, why do you give it?”

“You have sworn an oath to me, so some of this tribute can also be yours.”

“Thank you, Mistress!”

“In our tribe we value loyalty and trust as our treasure, not coin, metals and gems. You understand?”

“Yes Mistress, you must know that we are just Goblins, so the wealth of the tribute is tempting to us.”

“You are not just Goblins, you are Goblin Sisters of our tribe, only you can determine how much that is worth to you.”

Astera considered leaving the conversation at that point and then decided to show the Goblins Sisters the bronzed slithers.

“There are pieces found from time to time, usually in underground streams, the water washes over them, some for many years given how they have been smoothed and shaped,” said Sweetears.

“Do the Goblin tribes place any value on this metal?” Astera asked.

“The goblin smiths cannot work the metal, although they put them to use if the stream has shaped it well enough. Those two pieces would be used for arrow heads or perhaps spear tips, except whatever holds them would in turn be defeated, so you would always need to fix it again and again,” explained Sweetears.

Astera motioned to juggle or flip up one of the slithers and then thought better of it when Sweetears observing her, opened her mouth, eyes wide.

“This explains why Otonia’s knives are made solely of the metal with a leather wrap around the shaped handle to allow grip. The fact her knives exist means someone or something has the skill to work the metal,” mused Astera.

Ismene opened the second bag and Astera placed the two slithers in amongst the other baubles, the source of the scratches upon them obvious now.

Placing her hand on Sweetears shoulder Astera announced, “These two pieces maybe the most significant and most useless part of the tribute!”

Sweetears green-yellow complexion brightened in response, a shiver spreading across her body. “Yes Mistress.”

Ismene took this moment to return to her guard duty. Astera handed the tribute bag she held to Sweetears and in rapid succession handed another to Bluefingers and Prettynose respectively.

“Ensure they are handed to Clymene please.” Astera smirked. “I need to return to my beauty sleep.”

The cheeks of the three Goblin sisters glowed, speechless. They sworn an oath and now trusted? With the tribute no less, how? Why? They bowed low before their Mistress, smiles adorning their faces. The three sisters drew the same conclusion at the same time. They would need to enter the House to complete their task. The three instinctively turned back to face Astera, now laying prostrate on her bunk, preparing to close her eyes.

Sweetears stuttered, “M-Mistress, will C-Clymene accept our presence in the House?”

Astera opened her eyes and then held her index finger up. She then curl-wiggled her finger at Sweetears, who cautiously approached the bunk. Removing her own Daughters of the Duchess pin, Astera placed the jewellery in Sweetears’ open hand, curling her fingers closed. Tears rolled down Sweetears’ cheeks.

“For better or worse your future is tied to ours. I apologise in advance as I can’t guarantee your future or mine, although together, with loyalty and trust we will fight all who would bring us down.”

--- (Farstay 14th Day of Dark Month)

Pandra burst through the open cottage door like some sort of victory. They would chase her and rescue her, remorseful and apologetic, they had to! She hurried away from the cottage as fast as her silly human legs would carry her. The clothes and furs upon her body felt different and with the boots they gave her human form; warmth against the cold. She crossed the village boundary and ran for a nearby stand of trees. After a time, she realised her folly, her bluff called.

Appreciating her human clothes and furs she undressed and carefully folded them and placed them inside a hollowed tree trunk for safe keeping. She smoothly transformed into her wolf form as her mother taught her. With her new form the cold of Death Season embraced her more as her friend, than her enemy, although the hunt for food during Death Season always the challenge regardless of form.

Her thick coat flowed over her as she bounded in long effortless lopping strides towards the mountain range. She picked up the pack by smell long before she come across any. Recognising her scent, they did not challenge her, and she easily found her mother; her litter sister attending her.

She transformed into human form to talk to them both, shivering slightly, now regretting casting off her warm human clothes in a hollow log a long way, away.

“They didn’t ask me to join them.” A simple statement laced with failure.

“Did you wait as instructed or did you force yourself upon them?” asked her mother. Her daughter in wolf form would have tucked her tail up between her legs in a sign of submission. Her mother didn’t need such an obvious sign, she could read her daughter’s failure in her silence.

“They wanted to know which village my parents lived in and I thought to say somewhere far away, so it would be difficult to send me away, but I only knew the name of a town. Sorry Mother.”

“So, you have run away from them now?”

“I thought they would run after me, apologise and make an offer of friendship, but they let me run.”

“Why don’t we just shadow them Mother?” suggested her litter sister.

“No daughter I wish to know them, of them and their quality, plus they have been able to use the Seers, they could just transfer away from us, we need one of ours to join them as a sister.”

“I will return Mother and be humble and apologetic and see if I can contrive a way for them to invite me to join them.”

“No, we will play a longer game. I will send you to Bircharbor, you will hold your human form and learn how they use their weapons and how to ride a horse and then you will present yourself to them again. They will think you have died and their relief upon seeing you alive and obviously more useful may see you join them.”

“Will they still be alive in a year’s time Mother? They seem to be playing a dangerous game if they’re allied to Seers and Elven Lords?”

“It will be a test of them then. If they survive, then they’re more worthy to try and join, if they don’t then your training will allow you to live within any of their towns and villages and discover if any others are worthy.”

“Yes Mother.” She then transformed into her wolf form, if for no other reason to be warm once again.

“Take the rest of the season to gather some coins they value so much from some of the kills we have made and then use the clothes they have given you to enter Bircharbor. While amongst them you must be careful not to change into your wolf form, the smell of the town will confuse you and you will not be sure if you have maintained your secret.”

She growled in agreeance and started her journey to gather the shiny metal the human’s called coins.