“You sounded you are familiar with the harpies of Mount Clam?” said Sieur Henry. He stretched his back and brushed the snow off his beard.

We were up on the mountain, walking on a narrow winding trail that led us to the height. As we went up the slope, the air got significantly cold, and it had started to snow, and the white flakes lightly piled up on our heads and shoulders. One of Sieur Geffroi’s servants accompanied us as our guide. After hours of walking on the slope, we came to a stop at a rocky bend. The man suggested we take a rest. We sat heavily on rocks, catching our breath. I was glad that I had convinced Sieur Henry to leave his armors behind at Sieur Geffroi’s. Even imagining walking up the mountain clad in metal armors made me feel dizzy and exhausted. Anna, too, had left her armor at Sieur Geffroi’s. She did, however, bring her bow and the quiver full of arrows.

“Well, not in a direct way, Sieur,” I answered honestly. “I have heard about them, though. From their kins in the Roseland.”

The good Sieur raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

“Besides,” I added, “one particular harpy here should know us well, for it is milady Anna who had caused the harpy’s banishment from her Roseland tribe.”

“Ah, the meat-eater?” our guide butted in. I eyed him up and down. Clearly, this man had interacted with the Icerocks tribe more than enough to have noticed individual traits.

“The all white feathers?” I asked.

“Yes. The white one that eats meat.”

“Right. Then it is indeed that one. I gather she is still here, then.”

“I feel very much left out,” Sieur Henry complained. I apologized and tried to explain, but Anna poked her head out from behind a boulder some yards away. It seemed she needed my help.

I excused myself from the other two and rushed over to Anna behind the boulder. She was having trouble getting her pants down. We wore fur-lined leather clothing that had been provided by Antoine, over a couple of layers of cotton-padded linen. On top of that, I had also wrapped wool pieces around her limbs. Anna also had a pair of thick mittens on.

“Couldn’t you have taken the mittens off first?”

Anna made some gestures, but it was hard for me to tell what she was saying, what with her fingers hidden. The fur cap I had placed on her head was a tiny bit too large for her, and it kept tilting down low, blocking her eyes. But the pouting lips and the grimace were an obvious enough indication that she was annoyed.

“Alright, alright.”

Making sure the two men were not peeking- they weren’t, I pulled down her pants, layer by layer. As soon as the inner-most garment reached her ankles’ vicinity, Anna squatted down and let go. But, oh my God-, fuck female anatomy!

“Watch where you-!”

I shouted frantically, but I was too late. She had been holding in for too long, and there was just too much clothing around her legs; it hampered her squat. A steaming jet of yellowish liquid arced in the air like a fountain and landed on the pants around her ankles, soaking them wet. Anna pushed her ass out and nearly tumbled in an attempt to correct the trajectory, but it was already too late. To make things worse, I heard fast approaching footsteps. My shouting must have alerted the Sieur and our guide.

“Is something-”

Sieur Henry’s eyes went wide. He quickly spun around and headed back, dragging the guide by the lapel. The latter kept looking at the maiden’s exposed part, smiled big, and for some reason, gave me a thumb up. When the two went out of sight, I sighed and turned back to Anna. She was still pissing, squatted down over a growing puddle of yellow snow, with the now thoroughly soaked pants piled around her ankles. With a gloved hand, she pushed the fur cap up, and our eyes met, and I sighed again. Really, this girl was just too polarized. She could be incredibly smart, but at the same time, ridiculously dumb.

We climbed the mountain for two days. Unfortunately, I had only brought our tent and bedrolls. No spare pants for Anna. After the incident, she was mindful and properly aimed her waterjet. Still, it did not matter because we had no means to wash the already stained clothes. The outer-most of the urine-soaked pants were frozen crusty during the day’s climb, whereas the inner layer, of simple linen, absorbed sweat and body heat and remained damp. Because of the cold of the night, we had to sleep with our clothes on, and that made things worse, and her crotch and thighs itched. Overall, it was an unpleasant experience for Anna, and she bitched every minute. By the time we reached harpies’ dwelling, she stank sour and ammonia like a homeless beggar.

High up on Mount Clam, about midway to the jagged ridges, was a large indentation on the slope. It was as if some gigantic spoon had scooped that part of the mountain and left a colossal groove. Or a wide-mouthed cave. The trail wound around back and forth and gradually led us up to the edge of this carved space. Once we reached the place, the scenery was breathtaking. A rather flat land lay before us, a mixture of green and snow-white and icy blue and gray rocks. Of course, nature found its way. The place was filled with high-altitude plants and trees growing on dirt that had accumulated over millennia.

“We are almost there, Sieur,” our guide informed us around noon the second day, pointing towards the place further ahead. The snow had stopped in the morning, and the sky was clear blue. Although the air was icy, the sun was pleasant, shining brightly down on the snow-covered slope. We really were almost there. I saw a group of harpies taking off from the woods. Six or so of them in a formation, each carrying what appeared to be a basket. As they flew over our head, I spotted the familiar white-feathered harpy among the creatures.

“Hey!”

I shouted, but the harpies were quite high and did not hear me. One, though, saw us on the trail. She did a double-take, detached herself from the formation, and flapped her wings back to her dwelling. Perhaps to warn her tribe of our coming.

###

It took us a couple more hours to reach the woods, where our guide had told us the harpies dwelt. They had been alerted of our coming, and a group of human-faced birds was perched on the high branches, waiting. A pale-faced brunette, with magnificently feathered chicken breast, scowled at the man of Perpillon.

“We’ve told you we no longer welcome you here!”

As if on cue, the other harpies flexed their talons.

“We come in peace,” Sieur Henry shouted. “I am Sieur Henry of Tyroux, a good friend of Sieur Geoffroi. I come in his stead to reason with you.”

“There is nothing to be reasoned. Return to your land filled with the stench of blood and carnage.”

I was paying only half attention. My eyes were scanning the field on both sides of us. On the outskirt of the pine woods, there were patches of land on which some form of farming had been attempted. Wheat, I thought. Obviously, at this altitude and in this weather, no crops would do well. Yet, it seemed the harpies had been trying for decades. Again and again. So stubbornly hopeful, it was a bit admirable.

Anna nudged me in the ribs. She quickly pushed up the fur cap and raised an eyebrow, and patted the bow slung on her back.

‘No,’ I shook my head. ‘Let me talk to them first.’

I once again surveyed the sorry state of the wheat field before diverting my attention to the harpies.

“You have been stealing from the folks of Perpillon,” Sieur Henry was saying, “The Sieur Knight of Perpillon demands you return at once what you have taken.”

“Our grains now!”

I took a deep breath and stepped up.

“Shazang nawoa!”

The harpies gasped. Sieur Henry and our guide looked at me with confused expressions. I flashed a quick smile to assure them I knew what I was doing. Among the harpies, there was a flurry of hissed mutterings, which quickly died down. The brunette chicken-breast addressed me with curious eyes.

“You speak our language.”

“Speak, no.” I shook my head. “Just a few commands and those have always sufficed.”

I knew I sounded like an arrogant prick. Anna played her part, too, and she stood upright with her chin raised. The chicken-breast scoffed.

“You? Command harpies? Ha!”

“Yes, indeed. I say again. Bring us to your chieftess. Shazang nawoa.”

The harpy took a sharp breath and leaned her head back. Her eyes were studying me, while the talons clicked on the branch she was sitting on. I stared back hard, trying to look as manly as I could.

Walking through the trees, deeper into the woods, Sieur Henry was visibly growing uncomfortable. He looked left and right, his hand on his belt where the sword used to be. He was probably regretting having listened to me and not bringing his weapon.

“We are almost there,” our guide informed us. For many years he had been Sieur Geoffroi’s envoy to the harpies. Although he had been to this place numerous times, the harpies’ sudden hostility in the recent days made him nervous. After all, they warned him never to come up the mountain again.

The bird people led us through the woods, weaving through the trees. Soon, we stepped out into a massive clearing. A circle of snow-covered grassland, surrounded by impressively tall trees that housed nests. After much flapping of wings, the harpies settled on their nests. They watched us silently as if we were in an auditorium. In the middle of the clearing was a huge nest, about ten feet in diameter and three feet high, on which an old harpy was perched. The chieftess, or Shazang in their language. On the body of a sleek vulture was a granny face. Her hair was long and silver, tightly pulled and knotted to a bun on the back of her head. The skin was as pale as the winter, but the eyes were sharp, intensely scowling at the brunette chicken-breast as if scolding. The wrinkled nose hooked down like that of an owl, and the thin gray lips were taut from the displeasure of seeing us humans.

Our chicken-breast harpy hopped to the chieftess and bowed her head.

“Wise Shazang, these humans request your audience.”

After nodding to her underling, the chieftess eyed us. Sieur Henry stepped forward and politely bowed.

“I am Sieur Henry of Tyroux. I come in peace on behalf of my dear friend Sieur Geoffroi.”

There was a brief look of sadness on the old harpy’s face. She sighed.

“I’ve heard the good Sieur is unwell?”

“I am afraid he is so.”

The chieftess closed her eyes, deep in thought. When she reopened her eyes, the face was stern again.

“Please tell Sieur of Perpillon that I am grateful for his aid the past long years. Nevertheless, I can no longer risk mingling with humans.”

“But-”

“My duty is to ensure the safety of my flock. We shall endure the coming storm.”

“You have stolen from the folks! They can’t live through the winter!”

“Better them than us.”

“What would the queen say about your deeds?” I butted in.

The Shazang narrowed her eyes and scowled at me. I got her attention.

“She would praise my wise decision.”

“Even if it brings wrath down unto the Grayrocks? Are you willing to endanger the queen’s flock in the Roseland?”

The harpies freaked out. The noise was deafening and would have lasted longer had the chieftess not barked her order for her flock to shut the fuck up. She studied me up and down.

“And what would you know about the Grayrocks?”

“Enough to know Mount Clam’s Icerocks answer to the queen. And thus you will heed my demand. Return at once what you have stolen.”

Once again, the clearing was filled with a deafening noise. The enraged harpies bared their talons and hissed menacingly. Our guide went pale and shook real bad, and Sieur Henry leaned in and whispered.

“Lad, I do not think it is wise to-”

“I do not answer to no human!” the Shazang’s voice silenced everything else. It echoed around the clearing, bouncing off the trees. “I do not answer to no human, but our queen!”

I heard Anna scoffing from my side. She stepped forward with a smirk face.

“Then I would tell your queen,” I shouted as loud as I could, hoping every harpy would hear my voice. “I would tell her to tell you to return what rightfully belongs to the folks of Perpillon.”

“She would not listen to-” the chieftess stopped mid-sentence. There was a flash of doubt on her face.

“Surely, you have heard of the Roseborn? And the purge?” I asked. I was pretty sure these harpies had heard of what had happened in the Roseland, the spiritual home of the Icerocks tribe. Of the near-extinction level disaster that the girl standing next to me had unleashed unto the queen’s flock. The Shazang’s face went even paler.

“How do you know…”

We were interrupted by a group of harpies landing. They were the ones we had seen before. Each had a basket full, scraps of wheat-stalks, winter fruits, weird-looking roots, and buds. Whatever they could forage. The newly returned harpies eyed us with curious expressions, but then-

“Eeek!!!”

The white-feathered harpy threw herself at my feet and rubbed her forehead on the dirt.

“Prince Regent!” she looked up, begging for mercy. Her mouth opened wide, and the jaw quivered, absolutely terror-stricken by the sight of Anna’s smirking face. Once again, the harpy pressed her head down on the ground, almost burying her forehead into the dirt.

“Princess! Forgive us! Please spare us! Please! Forgive me! Spare me!”

This harpy, our old acquaintance, was pissing and shitting and writhing on the ground, begging for her life.

“Princess? Prince Regent?” Sieur Henry inquired with raised eyebrows.

“Please pay no attention, Sieur,” I explained, “this bird is not well versed in our peerage.”

I reached down and grabbed the white harpy by her shoulder.

“Look, I told you not to address us as such. It is considered treason.”

She wasn’t listening. The harpy was too panicked and was blabbing about regretting her insolence even to this day. How she had always known we would eventually come to finish her off, and some more nonsense. I raised my eyes from the incoherent harpy and met the wide eyes of the Shazang. The chieftess herself started to panic, her mouth opening and closing, at a loss of words.

“Lo!” I announced, “The Roseborn! Kneel before the Roseland’s child, she who commands your queen!”

The harpies went silent. It was so quiet it was devastating. Seeing them frozen with mouths agape pissed me off. Veins popping, I barked.

“Kururago shaekidera! Kneel!”

The harpies dropped down to the ground level, and collapsed onto their knees, their pride and dignity stripped away by the mention of the Roseborn. Cowering, they lowered their heads. The Shazang slithered down to the lower ground from her nest. Face flat on the ground, the chief harpy of Mount Clam wiggled across the dirt and came to a stop before Anna’s feet, and then kissed Anna’s mud-stained boots.

Satisfied, Anna walked towards the center of the clearing. She sat herself down on the edge of the Shazang’s nest and crossed her legs, ignoring the baffled faces of Sieur Henry and the guide.

“Hail to the Roseborn!” I led the harpies in greeting their new master. They lowered their heads even lower and hailed. “Hail to the maiden of the Roseland! Hail!”

###

When a brand new idea is so radical that it goes against the incumbent way of life, stiff resistance is to be expected. And when those who practice the new ideal act snobbish and look down on the others, a rift within the society is almost guaranteed.

That was what had happened with the harpies of the northern Roseland. The Grayrocks were the largest flock in the eastern part of the kingdom, led by a queen harpy who had made the northern mountains of the Roseland her home. Left alone by the La Rose and minding their own business, they prospered under the queen’s leadership until-

“Pardon me, my lad. Vegi- what?”

Sieur Henry asked, blinking, baffled.

“Vegetarian, Sieur. Basically, out of one’s own volition, one refuses to eat meat,” I explained.

About thirty-something years ago, long before either of Anna or I was born, some young harpies of the Grayrocks flock had decided they would not eat meat. I was told the uproar had been immense, with heated debates, and much ridicule flying left and right. The majority of the Grayrocks even regarded the practice as sacrilegious and shunned and ostracized the radicals. But over the years, the new way of life had spread like wildfire among the youngsters, and the rift within the flock had grown so much it required the queen’s attention.

“Instead of ruthlessly purging the radicals,” I explained to Sieur Henry, who still was somewhat confused, “the queen had suggested a peaceful separation.”

“So, a banishment,” the Sieur attempted to summarize.

“Not exactly, Sieur,” the Shazang, the chieftess of the Icerocks flock, answered in my stead. She was on her knee before us, the good Sieur and I who stood by Anna sitting on the edge of the Shazang’s huge nest. The chieftess would, occasionally glance upward at Anna, shudder in fear, and then lower her eyes down again. She continued.

“We were seen off by our kins with the queen’s blessing. She had provided us with much, and even sent an army of workers to help us build our nests here.”

“That is quite benevolent,” said Sieur Henry, nodding.

I silently agreed. I had a mighty good impression of the harpy queen. I vividly remembered the days when Anna, flanked by Jehan, led the finest archers of the Roseland and rolled across the snow-covered mountain like a raging storm. Anna wasn’t particularly mad about the wolves, for they were just animals following their instincts. They were left alone. But the harpies… they mocked the heiress and scoffed upon hearing Anna’s demand, the white one’s severed head. Within days, the nests were set aflame, and those who were captured alive had their talons pulled out, and wings clipped. The Grayrocks couldn’t take it anymore. The queen descended from the smoke-filled sky, unto the burning remain of her colony, and knelt before the young Lady of La Rose. Anna again demanded the head of the insolent, white-feathered harpy. The queen but then refused.

“Would my head suffice to quench your anger and please so spare the foolish young chick of ours?” I recalled the queen offering herself. Long story short, we were touched by her willingness to sacrifice herself for her subject. We settled on the particular harpy being sent off to live with the vegetarians. A grave punishment in its own way.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Anna shuffling. The chieftess had mustered up enough courage to meet Anna’s eyes, and she held the gaze, which made Anna uncomfortable.

“Is this really the child?” the silver-haired harpy spoke slowly, in awe, “The fabled Roseborn of the namesake land? She who skewers four most-agile harpies with one arrow-”

“Two, actually. Not four.”

“Oh, my!” Sieur Henry threw his hands in disbelief.

“We have heard so much about her,” said the granny harpy. Once separated from the meat-eating kins, the Icerocks had remained in good terms with their spiritual home, the Grayrocks. They viewed themselves as a ‘western outpost’ of the main tribe, and their loyalty to the queen remained intact. So some years ago, when the humiliating news of the queen submitting herself to a preteen child reached them, along with the exiled white-feathered harpy, the Icerocks were devastated. No wonder they cowered in fear when one of the uninvited visitors turned out to be none other than the much-feared nightmare.

The Shazang offered her nest, and I pitched our small tent in the middle of it. An empty grain sack was brought from somewhere, and I had two holes cut out at the bottom corners for Anna to slide her bare legs in. It looked too ridiculous on Anna, so I just cut away the rest to make a skirt, which I should have done in the first place. Anna’s smelly pants were taken away to be washed. We were sitting on the edge of the nest, dangling our feet, warming ourselves by a small fire some feet away from the nest. Anna’s exposed ankle made Sieur Henry a bit uncomfortable, so he tried to avert his eyes as best as he could. I found it quite funny. Maybe the exposed skin inevitably reminded him of the more intense part that he had briefly seen a couple of days ago.

We had a plain dinner, what we had brought from Sieur Geffroi’s castle. I did have some boiled eggs in my travel sack, but eating them in front of these bird-people would have been highly inappropriate. The vegetarian harpies here had some dried fruits and coarse bread, and they were surprisingly good.

“So, why steal from your neighbor? From what I have heard, you were in good terms?” I asked, washing down a hard chunk of bread with ice-cold water.

The Shazang gestured apologetically to our guide, a resident of Perpillon, before answering my question.

“I won’t deny we have stolen from the humans, but I wished to secure enough for my flock. We sense a great turmoil in the air.”

“The winter, you mean?” our guide asked.

“No,” the Shazang shook her head and continued, “we smell villages burning and flesh decaying. Pillars of black smoke arise in the distant sky, and the wind carries cries of despair. Our friendly creatures of the sky tell us of the horror on the horizon. Crops are trampled, and water poisoned by rotting blood.”

“There is indeed a storm ravaging across the kingdom,” Sieur Henry sighed and confirmed the harpy’s worries.

“And the mountain is aware,” added the harpy, “it is withholding its offerings. We forage what we can, but the abundance has disappeared. All thanks to the bickering among humans.”

“So, you were planning to distance yourselves from human trouble?” I asked, understanding.

The Shazang, the chieftess of the harpies living on Mount Clam, nodded.

“Yes, indeed, Regent. Whatever is happening in the lower lands, we shall hunker down and endure.”

“Call me René.”

“Of course, Majordome.”

I took a sharp breath in and bit my lips. This old harpy was surprisingly well informed about me. I suspected it was the white-feathered one. She must have spilled everything she knew about the Roseland’s child and her loyal herald. I shook my head. The grains. That was the whole point of our coming up here.

“What would it take to persuade you to return the stolen grains to Perpillon?”

“Very kind of you to suggest we bargain, but,” the Shazang respectively lowered her head before Anna, “I answer to the queen and the queen in return answers to the Roseborn. A simple command would suffice, not persuasion.”

“But-” our guide butted in. He hesitated a bit before continuing, “but what about your flock? You just said you do not have enough. Do you have enough?”

“Do your people?” asked the Shazang in return.

“No… I do not think they- we… No, we don’t.”

“We neither,” then the Shazang turned to Anna. “Nevertheless, if she does wish…”

I felt bad. Anna, too, seemed to be troubled. For fuck’s sake, we just wanted to help Sieur Geoffroi.

‘What do we do?’ Anna asked silently. I had no answer. We needed some time to think.

###

Thankfully, I did not have to think too hard about whom to starve. The solution to our dilemma flew over all the way from the Roseland.

It was the next morning. I was tying up Anna’s hair into a tight ponytail when an envoy from the Grayrocks of the Roseland arrived. Apparently, as soon as she had learned of Anna’s identity, the Shazang had sent a messenger to her queen. ‘The child born of the roses is here.’ The queen feared her chicks of the Icerocks would do something stupid and incur Anna’s wrath. She thus immediately sent a group of her trusted advisers who flapped their wings non-stop throughout the night.

The brunette chicken-breast came to inform us of the arrival of the queen’s envoy. I noticed her demeanor was tamer than yesterday, no hostility at all. Soon, a group of harpies came with the Shazang and knelt before the huge nest in the middle of the snow-covered clearing. I checked on Anna’s appearance, which wasn’t really up to my satisfaction but still passable. I ushered her, and we crawled out of our small tent. Anna sat on the edge of the three feet high nest. I jumped down and stood before her. Sieur Henry and our guide skirted around the kneeling harpies and stood a few feet next to me, leaning on the edge of the nest, curious.

“My Lady. And Regent,” the senior of the newly arrived group greeted us. I recognized this one. Another granny face, a wise one. Almost as old as the Shazang, but with long braided gray hair. The body was that of an eagle, black but white breast, and razor-sharp talons. Her name was… hang on, what was it? Never mind.

“Just René,”

“Majordome, then.”

“Fine! Whatever!” I gave up.

“I hope our kins of Mount Clam had not caused the young Lady any displeasure?”

I noticed the chieftess twitching a bit. I smiled a little.

“No, of course not. The Icerocks have been most hospitable. Shazang, especially.”

The envoy let out a collective sigh of relief, and I could sense their tension dissipating.

The conversation, of course, moved onto the topic of why the fuck was Anna here? To put it simply, Anna was here to tell the Icerocks to do the right thing and return the stolen grains. I told the harpies so.

“But on the other hand,” I scratched my chin, explaining the dilemma, “the Icerocks would not have enough to last for long, let alone through this winter. That is why your kins stole from Perpillon in the first place.”

“It is as the Regent has said,” the Shazang confirmed.

“Hmm…” the harpy queen’s representative closed her eyes and fell into deep thought.

I waited patiently. Anna cleared her throat to get my attention.

‘If not having enough is the problem, then let’s reduce the spend. Return the grains, kill half the harpies. Everyone has enough.’

‘Are you mad!’ I shot back, trying not to show it on my face. The others had no clue what Anna had just said.

‘Or maybe they should eat meat?’

“That’s… that’s an option,” I stuttered. I must admit she had an excellent point.

“You mean meat, Majordome?” the senior envoy opened her eyes and asked. She, too, must have been considering that idea. But she shook her head.

“I’d rather they not go in that direction. It just isn’t who the Icerocks are.” With that, the old harpy of the Grayrocks stood up. She flapped her massive wings a couple of times to get the feathers sorted out, and rolled her head a few rounds.

“Shazang,” she addressed the chieftess of the vegetarian harpies. “I have come, and now speak on behalf of our queen, she who rules the flocks of the east.”

The entire Icerocks knelt on the ground and lowered their heads. The senior harpy of the queen’s envoy continued.

“It is now time that we reunite. Come home. Come where your eggs had been laid and hatched,” she slowly looked around her fellow bird-people as she spoke, “With the time that has passed, so have we changed. I assure you our differences in ways of life will not be frowned upon, but on the contrary, welcomed. You will not be shunned again.”

She then turned to face Anna and gave a smile.

“Perhaps with the Roseborn’s blessing?” she added.

Anna nodded in approval and gave a thumb up. I leaned in and whispered into the harpy’s ear.

“But do the Grayrocks have enough to accommodate all these additional beaks?”

“Mouths, Majordome. We have no beaks. And to answer your question, that is now our problem. Perpillon will have their grains returned as the Roseborn wishes, and the Icerocks are no longer the young Lady’s to worry. All is good.”

“That is not good! It is far from being good.” I shook the old harpy’s shoulders. I glanced back at Anna for her input.

‘I leave it to you, Regent.’

With the confidence of the Barony’s heiress placed on my back, I faced the harpy queen’s representative.

“Look, I will arrange something. Maybe through Clermans.”

“Most generous. We will accept gratefully,” the harpy bowed her head.

“Good. I will instruct the Council to get in touch with your queen.”

“Ah, that reminds me, Majordome. We have noticed a new Master Postier. Have you replaced Master Jehan?”

“It was the Baroness,” I sighed. “Jehan is now in Montclam. Drop by and say hello when you fly over.”

The harpies of the Icerocks tribe were busy packing. There was a sense of excitement in the air. ‘We are going home!’ they told each other. I went around looking for the harpy who had been keeping out of my sight. When I located the white-feathered bird-person, she reluctantly came down from her nest and trembled.

“Look, we are not going to hurt you. We are keeping the promise with your queen,” I had to assure her.

“Thank you! Reg-, Majordome. Thank you!”

“In fact, run me a small errand, and I would consider your insolence of the past forever forgiven.”

The harpy beamed and waited. I pointed towards the south.

“I want you to make a little detour. To the southern forest of Forez.”

“Forez?”

“Yes. There is a Treedweller tribe who is looking after human folks. Go see how they are doing, then report to Master Postier Jehan in Montclam.”

Then I thought for some seconds. Heck, why not?

“Tell the Barkskins. If they are in any trouble, they are always welcome in the Roseland.”

The white-one bowed and left to gather her things. Satisfied, I turned around, and almost headbutted our guide, Sieur Geoffroi’s servant.

“They are going to give our grains back, look!”

My eyes followed his finger. A large group of harpies was getting ready to take off, each carrying a heavy sack. Soon they flapped their wings and took off. It felt good watching them rise to the sky. I felt a sense of accomplishment. I mean… yeah, the harpies listened only because Anna was Anna, and I was a bit high on the power that wasn’t mine, but hey, I did all the talking.

###

We were again on the winding trail, walking down the snow-covered mountain slope. We were in a good mood; the man of Perpillon was happy because his land’s problem had been resolved peacefully. Anna was pleased, for her freshly-washed pants no longer reeked of piss and did not make her crotch itch. I felt generally good.

“René, my good lad,” Sieur Henry came up to me and walked by my side. He had been thinking.

“Yes, Sieur.”

“I have once again noticed that anyone and everyone, who has even an ounce of knowledge of the current affairs of the Roseland, knows who you are. They call you Majordome.”

“I do serve in His Lordship’s manor,” I admitted. “I am indeed the head of those who serve the La Rose. Hence the honor of personally accompanying the most precious of the said family.”

“Hmm…, that itself is incredible, given your young age. But you are more than that, are you not? Regent?”

I gave the good Sieur an empty smile. His eyes narrowed.

“Regent means you administer the Barony. You do, do you not? In the La Rose family’s stead?”

“As I had said, Sieur, I do help out here and there.”

“I then take the answer as an Oui, which thus raises the question regarding whereabouts of the Baron. What happened, René? And why such a young one like you? What exactly are you?”

I took a step away from the inquisitive sir knight. I glanced at Anna. She had been listening.

‘Tell him you are father’s bâtard,’ she jokingly suggested, to which I returned a scornful look.

“Pardonez, Sieur, but milady forbids me from telling.” I deliberately mistranslated Anna’s hand-signs, which the Sieur had also seen her making. It was a dickish move by me, using Anna’s muteness, but she herself found my quick wit rather funny and burst out laughing. Sieur Henry, puzzled, shook his head and did not further press for an answer. He politely left it at that, for which I was thankful. Of course, he would eventually learn the full extent of my statue within the Barony, but that would be much much later when he visited the Roseland.

###

Sieur Geoffroi was ecstatic. He welcomed us back and thanked us repeatedly.

“I shall show my gratitude by taking up your suggestion,” he said. He promptly began to draft a carefully worded letter to Comte de Chartoise, urging the count of Chartoise to support His Royal Highness Prince Louis becoming the next king.

“I will follow it up by a visit in person myself. When the weather clears,” Sieur Geoffroi added.

We milled about for some days, relaxing and talking and lazying. One day the sun was excellent, and the wind wasn’t that too cold. Sieur Henry took it upon himself to take care of the practice dummies and archery targets that had been collecting dust in the castle’s court. He wiped the accumulated dirt, fixed wobbly bits, and cleaned the wooden swords and staff. Anna and I sat across the court and watched.

“This should suffice,” Henry said, propping up the dummy a few feet from the castle wall. He then picked up the wooden swords and was about to place them on the rack, but stopped and hesitated. He took one and gave it a couple of good swings, then turned to face us.

“Would the young Lady-”

‘Yes!’

Anna jumped up and ran across the court like an excited kid.

The two stretched a bit and then took a wooden sword each. They did a little courtesy, and then Anna stormed in like a manic beast. The Sieur was so taken aback by this sudden rabidness; he barely managed to parry.

Whack! Whack!

The sound of Anna’s relentless attacks filled the court, so I did not hear Sieur Geoffroi coming. I nearly jumped like a surprised cat when he sat down next to me.

“My! The Lady is ferocious!” he commented. After observing a bit more, he added. “My God, but she is only toying!”

I couldn’t really tell. All I could see was Anna whacking on Sieur Henry’s sword like a feral dog. ‘And that’s toying?’ I wondered.

Soon enough, Henry gave up. Panting, he lowered his sword and his head. Anna, too, bowed. Her face a bit flustered pink.

“My Lady!” Henry was saying, “I do, in my own humble way, pride myself in my swordsmanship, but I must admit I cannot handle this. I have never seen anything like-” he noticed his good friend Geoffroi.

“Geoffroi! What do you say?”

“You would not have lasted a single second, had the Lady put in efforts and employed even one-tenth of her true prowess.”

“That so?” Sieur Henry wowed. “Now, that was a humbling experience.”

Amidst this exchange between the two warriors, Anna stood there with a wide grin. ‘You don’t have to be so smug, you know,’ I muttered under my breath.

“Having seen that, now I am reinvigorated!” Sieur Geoffroi stood up and walked over. “This may well be the last chance in my lifetime that I face someone who surpasses even General Guillaume!”

“Even General Guillaume?!” Henry was stunned.

I had to search my memory to recall who that Guillaume fella was. Ah, yes. The General of the Royal Guard, brother to the late Queen, and the uncle to the twin princes. Whose art of sword was supposed to be on par with Sieur Geoffroi’s, or vice versa.

The sir knight of Perpillon changed place with his friend. He picked up a wooden sword, and as soon as he laid his hand on it, the atmosphere in the court changed. I felt sick as my sixth sense picked up the overbearing presence of menace. The Sieur faced Anna and raised his sword. On the other side, Anna firmly planted her front feet and, with both hands, pointed her sword forward. She was calm; the feral appearance had disappeared, and she even showed a hint of grace. A bit of Firis was showing.

After exchanging a polite nod with Anna, Sieur Geoffroi took one two quick steps and thrust his sword, which Anna swiftly brushed aside. She smoothly glided into the Sieur’s face, and the blunt edge of the practice sword was already pressing on the man’s neck.

“Whoa!” Sieur Geoffroi dropped his sword and raised both hands in defeat. His face was beaming.

“Henry, I was wrong.”

Sieur Henry, who was watching from next to me, took some efforts to come out of shock. He was stunned.

“Wrong?”

“This young Lady DID put in tremendous efforts against you, my friend!”

Anna took a few steps back and blushed. Sieur Henry was confused.

“What do you mean, Geoffroi?”

With a broad smile, the knight Perpillon ran his adoring eyes all over Anna. It was as if he had experienced a bliss.

“Lady Anna did intentionally add unnecessary motions and exaggerations to make it somewhat easier for my dear friend. Yes?”

Anna, feeling a bit guilty and blushing, confirmed with a nod. Henry and I walked over and joined the two. The Sieurs were excited like two little boys.

“Did you feel that, Henry? The sense of inevitable?”

“Incredible yet so humbling, is it not?”

The two gentlemen went on. Anna’s smugness was not bottomless; there were only so many praises she could take, past which point she began to shrivel up and became uncomfortable and blushed and fidgeted like a shy child. She retreated to behind my back.

“By the way, Geoffroi,” Henry changed the topic, “this reminds me. Do you still have that book? The Collection of Ancient-... Ancient something?”

“I do indeed.”

And with that, the two men rushed into the castle. Anna and I exchanged glances and shrugged. I picked up the wooden sword Sieur Geoffroi had dropped, and swung it playfully.

‘No!’

Anna looked upset.

“What is wrong, milady?”

She did not say. I was a bit puzzled. Did I handle this wooden sword in a dangerous way?

“Sorry, Anna. I was just-”

She quickly came up to me and slapped the sword out of my hand, and then hugged me tightly for a few seconds. I did not know what to say or why she was upset, so I just stood there, freed my arms and patted her back, hoping that would calm her down. She felt a bit hot.

###

We spent the rest of the day in quiet. The Sieurs kept to themselves in the library, looking for a particular book Sieur Henry wanted. Anna and I lazed in the bed in the guest room, dozing on and off. Lying next to her, I could not help but notice the heat coming from her. Anna had a runny nose. She was often sneezing, too.

“You sure you are alright?”

‘Just mild flu,” she answered unconvincingly, shivering.

Yeah, I thought. Hiking the mountain in wet pants must have had its toll. Besides, we had spent a decent amount of time out in the open, sweating and such.

“Once we get back, let’s ask Marion if she could do something about it.”

And then we talked about Marion and her Treedwellers. Anna confessed she was still afraid of the witch, but she found the Barkskins to be alright. Talking about Marion reminded me of the balm she had given me for Anna’s bruises. I jumped out of bed and rummaged through my travel sack. It wasn’t there. I must have left it in one of the other, smaller, pouches on Slinky and Lilly.

“Let me go fetch that thing for the bruise on your back,” I said and put on my boots. Anna waved a hand and buried herself deeper under the blanket.

I found the balm in a small pouch hanging by Slinky’s saddle. It was evening and quite chilly. The castle’s small court was already dark by the shadow cast by the walls and the low sun. Flakes of snow drifted down from the sky, and they were lightly sprinkling the court’s dirt yard. I was about to head back into the stone structure when a small group of Sieur Geoffroi’s servants returned from the villages. They had gone out to oversee the redistribution of the grains the harpies had returned. One of them, the man who had guided us to the mountain, nodded in greeting. He had the face of a man who had something to report to his master.

“Sieur Geoffroi is in his office,” I told him.

“Thank you, lad. Come with me. You may want to hear this. Your young Lady, too.”

“Nah~ She’s resting.”

I followed the man to the office, which also served as the Sieur’s library. The two friends were hunched over the desk, reading together a large book. It must have been the one they had been looking for.

“How did it go?” Sieur Geoffroi inquired. About the grains.

“Folks are grateful, Sieur. There wasn’t much trouble.”

“Good, good.”

“But I hear something quite strange,” the servant went on, somewhat uneasy. “They say Chartoise is under siege.”

Sieur Henry snapped his head up from the book, surprised.

“By whom? Comte d’Armas?”

The servant lowered his head apologetically.

“I am afraid it is uncertain. But it seems there are skirmishes around Fort Soilet. That is if peasants’ talks are to be trusted.”

“My! Comte de Chartoise could be in need of my service!” Sieur Geoffroi but then fell into an uncontrollable coughing fit. It lasted some minutes and was gruesome.

I was stunned. Skirmishes around Fort Soilet in Chartoise could mean only one thing. Our Comte d’Armas was battling someone. Who was the Comte fighting? Was he defending or attacking? And, more importantly, why? Why would anyone fight now, in the winter, in the snow?