They didn’t speak further on anything of note the rest of the travel time that day. Rendan seemed to be in a foul mood, and Bree was hard pressed to keep up with the new pace he was setting.

When they stopped for the evening, she actually found, for the first time on their journey, that she had enough energy to help make camp. Mostly she did fetch work and watched while he showed her how to do the various necessary chores.

“I’m going to catch us some dinner while you tend the fire,” he suddenly announced. “I tire of the tastes of salt and stale; I need something fresh.” He looked at her for a moment, then moved to the bags and pulled out a dagger in a sheath.

“Here,” he said, handing her the weapon. “Put this on your belt. Be on the lookout while I’m gone. Winter is approaching, so some animals might be getting desperate for food, and it wouldn’t exactly be unknown for some loose bandits to be haunting this area. I doubt things have changed that much since the last time I passed through this area.”

She watched as he walked off into the woods. It only took a minute to figure out how to attach it to her belt. She decided to wear it on her right side, most of the way towards her back. She figured it would be less likely to get in her way, and her cloak would also hide it. She decided that if Rendan didn’t see it, he might forget and she would be able to keep it.

She couldn’t help fiddling with it as she sat by the fire. She’d held knives before, of course, but she’d never owned a weapon like this. Even though she knew it wouldn’t be of any real use against the mage when the time came, somehow she felt safer and more confident just by having it on her belt.

True to his word, Rendan made his way back shortly with a pair of rabbits and a few scrounged tubers. He showed her how to clean and prepare them, and even pulled some seasonings to use out of a stash in his bag. A short time later, she found herself drooling over the smells coming from the fire.

Having a little time to think about it, she found her experiences in food lately amusing. She had lived her whole life living on fine foods made by the court cooks. Sumptuous pies, and exquisite roasts, and displays that would leave commoners in awe. On more than a few occasions she had seen new guards or other commoners gawking over the fare that she simply took for granted. Now, food that she would have turned her nose up on mere days ago tasted better than the finest foods the cooks had ever presented.

After they finished eating he told her, “I need to do something that’s going to occupy my attention. Keep a watch out for any predators.”

Bree felt her eyes widen and had to stop herself from reaching for her new dagger, hidden under her cloak. She couldn’t believe that he would leave her armed while he was occupied and defenseless, but maybe he really had forgotten about the weapon.

Before she had a chance to get excited, she saw the corner of his mouth twist slightly.

“You won’t be able to attack me,” he warned. “I’ve taken steps, and even if you somehow managed to injure or kill me it wouldn’t end well. Things are in motion that, if I don’t intercede, will eventually destroy your family, devastate Terabram, and ruin the lands and people there.”

He looked straight into her eyes, and it was all she could do not to flinch.

“My plans involving you are the only thing that can prevent that from happening. Keep that in mind before you try to escape, or betray me, or otherwise cause mischief.” His stare pinned her for a few minutes, before he turned towards the fire.

She was left to her bitter thoughts as he worked on whatever it was he was doing. She tried watching the darkness and listening for anything out of the norm, but her thoughts kept distracting her. Eventually, a tingling sensation drew her attention back to where Rendan was working.

He sat in a rigid posture, with his legs crossed tailor-style. His arms were held in front of him, with his finger-spread hands facing each and moving as if manipulating a large ball. His eyes were focused on the smoke above the fire, and his mouth was moving as if he was muttering but she didn’t hear any words.

When she focused her attention on the smoke, she noticed a bat of swirling smoke that was significantly denser than the rest. Even as she watched, more and more of the passing smoke was absorbed into the globe as it became more and more solid appearing.

As the ball coalesced, the tingling she was feeling got stronger. It was a weird feeling, somewhat like goosebumps but focused on what felt like the hairs on the back of her neck, and also spread out through her entire body despite the clash. She couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but somehow she knew that it was from the globe of thick smoke.

She became so focused on the smoke, that she had no warning when she was yanked back by her hair. She yelped in both surprise and and the pain of the pulled hair, and tripped over her feet and she tried to regain her balance. As she started to fall, she was pulled into the arms of a man. He quickly adjusted his grip so that he was holding her by the throat. He put the tip of a knife at her cheek in a threatening manner.

“Be careful there, girlie,” the man said in a rough but gleeful voice. “I don’t want to accidentally cut up that pretty face of yours.” He cackled.

She looked around as she could without being cut by the knife. There were two other men facing down Rendan, who had stopped...whatever it was that he was doing and stood. The gnarled staff had come to his hands, though he wasn’t holding it in a particularly aggressive manner. He actually looked to be relaxed, other than the slight frown on his face.

“You stop moving too, old man,” said the tallest of the men. He was waving a short sword and seemed to be the leader of the group. The third of the men was muscled and burly, and had a nasty looking club in his hands.

“Now we can do this the easy way and you’ll get out of here with your lives after we have our fun,” the leader said. “The other way ends with your corpses getting picked at by the wildlife. That’s the way Lil’ Murph likes to do things.”

“I see,” said Rendan calmly. He looked at her and noted, dryly, “You could use some work on your observation skills, girl.” She probably would have blushed if not for the knife in her face.

The thought brought her back to the man holding her. He was average height, with a wiry build. He was wearing a leather breastplate with metal studs that was in somewhat decent shape, but all his other clothes and equipment were in poor shape. The man’s hygiene left something to be desired. His hair was oily and stringy, his skin was layered with dirt, and his breath made her eyes water. The leer he was giving her sent goosebumps down her spine.

“I’ll work on that for the future,” she replied to the mage, trying to keep her voice light.

“Shut your traps and put that stick down,” the leader snarled. He lifted his sword threateningly, and the other man did the same with his club.

“Well, you need to work with the tools you’ve been given whenever you have the opportunity,” Rendan said, ignoring the bandits.

Her mind instantly made the connection. The mage wasn’t worried about the two men he’d have to face; he’d handily destroyed whole squads of her father’s well-trained men. He must be hesitant because of the threat to her, she decided. He’d even given her a nudge of how to deal with it.

While ladies of noble birth were extremely unlikely to take up the life of an adventurer or soldier, Erek and her father had made sure that she had at least basic training in how to defend herself.

Her dagger lashed up and stabbed the bandit in the wrist. He was caught completely unprepared for the attack, and dropped the dagger with a shriek and let go of her with his other hand so he could grasp the wound. She lashed out with her foot as soon as she had her balance, and the kick landed solidly in the groin. The man doubled over and seemed to be having difficulty deciding which of the injuries he should be paying more attention to. With a scream she fell on him with a flurry of furious stabs, attacking anywhere she could see unprotected flesh.

She lost herself in a red fury that she couldn’t control. All conscious thought left her as she vented rage that had been building for days. The mortal threat of the bandits had merely been the last indignity. All the questions, worries, terrors, and anger went into strikes of that dyed-red dagger as it flashed again, and again, and again.

She didn’t know how long it was before she became aware of herself again. She wiped away angry tears with the sleeve of her tunic as she looked up.

The two other bandits were dead. She couldn’t tell what had killed them. The man beneath her was also of no further threat. There were dozens, or more, stab wounds and slashed on him. Some of them punched through the somewhat ratty leather breastplate, others in the throat and limbs.

There was blood. So much blood. It was over the bandit. It was on her dagger. Red spatters were all over her arms and tunic. Her hands were completely covered in the dripping substance. The smell of released bowels was in the air. The bandit’s face was frozen in terror, with the eyes glazed over.

Bree threw up. Then she threw up some more, and began dry heaving when she didn’t have anything else to throw up. She felt gentle hands holding her hair away from her face.

She knew that she shouldn’t feel guilty for the death. She was defending herself. The man would have done unspeakable things to her, and she didn’t doubt that if given a chance she would have been kept a plaything for the bandits or simply killed once they’d finished with their fun. They were scum, and didn’t deserve to live.

She’d never imagined, in her wildest dreams, that she would take a life however. She knew her brothers had prepared for the likelihood that they would have to kill someone, either directly or by ordering someone executed. She remembered only a few years ago talking over the morality of it with Erek, who was somewhat haunted by the idea. She’d helped him work through it, so he would be prepared when the inevitable happened. It was merely a philosophical exercise to her, however since she never thought she would be in that position herself.

She stood up and turned to face the mage, who had been holding her hair as she was sick. There was no anger or recrimination in his face. No matter how, logically, she knew she had done the right thing, she was glad to see that the only thing that she could glean from his expression was concern, and maybe a little bit of sadness.

“I need to clean up,” she said suddenly enough to surprise herself. She felt the need to do something. Anything.

“Hold for a moment,” he told her.

He blinked, and when his eyes reopened they were out of focus, like he was looking at something that she couldn’t see. She saw him silently murmuring again, and then he made a gesture with his hands sweeping down in the air in front of her, from her head most of the way down to her feet. She felt the same tingling feeling from before, and then days worth of grime, sweat, dirt and blood collapsed off of her to the ground, to her amazement.

“Head down the hill” he said. “There is a small stream. You can scrub down some more if you want, or at least get away from this for a few minutes. I’ll clean this up and keep a watch out. Nothing else is close by right now.”

She grabbed some soap and towels from the supplies and headed towards the stream without a thought of arguing. As she was heading down the hill, she felt that strange tingling again. She didn’t stop to look back.