Alexis went about the task of tending to the boy with numb automation. For years she had managed to hide who and what she was. It was for that reason she had agreed to the Order’s insistence that she placed herself in that remote town. The border needed watching, and she needed a fresh start. She glanced at Ulf, still sitting by the fire. It was apparent he didn’t truly understand what she was, but she remembered the look of fear on his face when he backed away. It was an expression she hoped to never see again. She closed her eyes and saw the dead man in her mind.

“You ok?”

The voice startled her, and she opened her eyes. She hadn’t heard the big man move, but when he spoke, he was only an arm’s length away. He reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. The contact felt good, and she shuddered, then let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m fine. It’s been a long time since I used any magic, and longer since I…you know…”

She made a weak gesture in the direction where the man died. Her voice faltered, and she stopped speaking. Ulf kept his hand on her shoulder and increased the pressure. He was strong, and the grip hurt a little. Still, it felt good, and she wouldn’t have asked him to remove his hand if it meant losing her arm. His grip was the only reason she wasn’t falling to her knees in misery.

“It ain't easy, …killing.” He said softly. “Not even when you know you’re in the right. You just remember, every life’s important, but when it’s them or you, always chose you.”

She sighed again. She didn’t agree with Ulf, but when a rose blooms to brighten your day, you don’t bitch about the thorns.

“Thank you, Ulf. That means a lot, but I will be fine. I just need a little time to process things.”

He removed his hand, and she let out a soft moan. Her shoulder seemed incomplete suddenly. To distract herself from its absence, she went back to her ministrations. The wound on the boy’s chest was healed entirely, and all that remained was a small puckered scar. She thought she could get away with leaving his body to its own devices; it was just a matter of rest now. There was a small part of her that rejoiced at not having to give away more power.

“The question is,” she said while replacing the blankets, “what do we do now?”

Ulf smiled. “You seem to like asking that.”

Despite herself, she laughed too. Ulf rummaged through the packs and produced a small skillet and some provisions.

“For myself,” he said, “I’m going to make something to eat. I’m starving.”

It was just like a man to think with his stomach. The pure practicality of the thought was comforting, though. The smells wafting through the air reminded her that she was damn hungry herself. Ulf filled two plates with scrambled eggs and slices of ham. He handed one to her and sat with the other in his lap. He grabbed one of the slabs of meat and thrust it into his mouth.

“This is an awful lot of food,” she said.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, still chewing.

“That is disgusting!” She blurted. “I think your parents meant to name you Oaf, and just got the spelling wrong.”

He swallowed hard. “Could be,” he conceded with a shrug. He wiped the juices from his face with his sleeve. The same sleeve that was covered in dirt and blood. It made her gag.

“Well, shouldn’t we be conserving our supplies?”

He took a large spoonful of eggs and shoved it into his mouth. “Not really,” he said, his mouth full again.

He was doing this on purpose now, she thought. Well, if he wanted to be a barbarian, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of reprimanding him.

“Would you mind explaining why?”

He wiped his mouth again, “Well, we got the opposite problem than most travelers. We have too much food, so might as well eat good while we can.”

“I know, to you, that must have sounded like an explanation, “ Alexis said, “but just for fun, why don’t you give it another shot.”

“Ok,” he said with a smile, “when people travel, they have to pack plenty of food.”

Alexis interrupted him, “You don’t have to be an ass!”

Ulf looked perplexed. “I’m trying to explain, not be an ass. Do you mind not interrupting? The food they take has to be dried and preserved so that it will last for weeks. What we have will not last more than a few days. The cold will help keep it a little longer, but it will spoil long before we can eat it all. So, we might as well eat what we can while we can.”

Alexis glanced back at the wagon. “Can’t we do something with what we have?”

“A little,” Ulf said. “I packed an uncooked haunch of pork that I plan to dry today. The other food is already cooked, too late to do anything but eat it. We don’t have time to do it properly, but it should be good enough by morning to last a while.”

Alexis spluttered, and bits of egg flew from her mouth. She tried to hide the discharge with her hands, but it was clear that Ulf had noticed. “What do you mean tomorrow morning? I plan to be on the road later today.”

“Well, I assumed we would spend today resting,” Ulf challenged. “We need to get some sleep, and by the time we get moving, the daylight will be nearly gone. We have a good camp, and chores that need doing if we are going to get wherever the hell we are going.”

Alexis thought over his words. It sounded reasonable, and she had to admit the thought of staying still for a day seemed nice. They hadn’t been on the road long, but the lack of sleep after so much activity was wearing. It was apparent, also, that he did not like not knowing where they were going, but now was not the time for that argument. He unpacked some blankets and made a pallet on the ground.

“You can have the first watch,” he said and went to sleep.

Alexis felt sorry for him. She had dragged him away from his life, and there was no going back. She only hoped it would be later rather than sooner that she had to tell him. She sat there in silence, feeling like a coward. Her watch passed peacefully, and when she woke Ulf, he gathered his things and moved away in silence. She didn’t think she would be able to fall asleep, but fatigue won out, and soon she was snoring softly.

The soft sound of voices woke her sometime later, and for a moment, she was frozen by fear. When her mind caught up with the rest of her, she recognized Ulf’s voice. The second took longer, but the agonized tone told her it could only be the boy. He must have woken up while she was sleeping. She rolled over quietly and listened.

“It’s a hard fact,” Ulf was saying, “that people die. Sometimes they deserve it, most times they don’t. It doesn’t matter which because it’s always the ones that live that pay for it.”

The boy wasn’t crying, but she could tell that tears weren’t far off. His voice cracked and squeaked, but he still managed to put defiance behind his words.

“So, my da got what was coming to him?” He demanded.

“Yes,” Ulf said simply. “And so did Wilhelm. One day I’ll get what’s coming to me. That’s the way of the world, boy!” His words were angry now. “People mourn the death of evil men all the time, but it don’t make ‘em less evil because they are missed.”

It was time to step in and stop this. Ulf’s particular brand of comforting didn’t seem to be doing much good.

“I see my patient is awake, and no one bothered to wake me,” she said, unraveling herself from the blankets.

Ulf gave a sly smile. “I thought you said you weren’t a healer? Can’t have a patient if you’re not a healer.”

She glared at the man. Somehow she had lost the upper hand in this relationship. She wondered if she would ever get it back, or if she even wanted to.

“Be that as it may, he should not be up and about.”

Ulf smiled again. “Why, young Martin and I were just discussing the finer points of life and death.” The anger that was on display moments ago was replaced with amusement, and now she was sure he was toying with her. That decided it, she had to regain the upper hand.

“If telling a boy how evil his father was counts for the finer points of life and death in your mind, it’s a wonder you didn’t become a priest.” She threw a bundle at him. “Now, go and change your clothes, you smell.” Man properly chastised; upper hand regained.

Ulf grabbed the clothes and stalked away. She sat down by the fire to get warm and saw that he had been busy while she was asleep. There was a pot hanging over some coals to one side that appeared to be holding a delicious smelling stew, and all around the low flames leaned crisscrossed sticks with slender slices of meat stretched over them. All in all, the fire pit was two or three times larger than when she went to bed, and the heat radiating from it felt terrific. The thought of that hulking man toiling over a stew pot seemed comical, and it made her smile. Her smile disappeared when she saw Martin’s face.

There was no consoling the boy, she knew. The thought of her own father’s death leaped unbidden into her thoughts. When she was a child, she had been deathly ill. All the healers her father could summon were unable to find anything wrong; she was just wasting away. Eventually, he sent the healers away and sat unmoving by her bed. In a fit of despair, he grabbed her by the shoulders and started weeping. She felt a sensation of heat at his touch, and it felt good. Without knowing what she was doing, she pulled at the heat until it threatened to burn her soul. When she woke the next morning, she felt like she had never been sick, but her father lay dead at her bedside. It wasn’t until many years later, after meeting Reka, that she understood what happened. It was Reka that taught her about her unusual gift, and terrible curse. And she hated him for it.

“This is my fault, isn’t it,” Martin asked, interrupting her thoughts.

It was the same question he had asked her the night before, and just like the night before, she could not answer it. She knew what it was to be genuinely at fault. Instead, she changed the subject.

“You know, we are not too far from a very historic place,” she said, hoping the boy would not detect the quaver in her voice.

It seemed that Martin didn’t want to hear the answer any more than she wanted to give it because he snatched at the comment. He looked around curiously and asked, “Where?”

“If you were to travel a few days west and a little south of here, you come near the spot where the Treaty of Five was created,” she said gratefully.

Martin furled his forehead, “I don’t know what that is.”

“No shame there,” she said, “not many people do, though it rules the way we all live today.”

She could see him preparing to speak, and instead of hushing him, like she would Ulf, she let him continue.

“How can it rule our lives if we don’t even know about it?” He asked

“Because that treaty, along with the events that preceded it, established the world as we know it. It sets the boundaries for the provinces and the rules that most of us live by today.”

“I don’t understand,” he said. He was participating in the conversation, but she could see that he wasn’t really interested. Still, she pushed on.

“I can tell you the story if you like. You might enjoy it.” She said. “And I might enjoy not having to talk to you about your father,” she thought to herself. She was a coward.

Martin looked around the camp, not really focusing on any one thing, then shrugged. She ground her teeth; apparently, Ulf had made an impression on the boy.

“Ok,” she said slowly, “I will tell you. It started a very long time ago. The world was wracked by constant war over control of the land, and the people were on the verge of destroying themselves. This was a time of great magic, and the desolation was staggering. Eventually, the gods grew tired of their children’s squabbles and called forth the six greatest wizards of the age. They were Bethos, Taian, Halloran, Galios, Petra, and Teague. After much hardship, the six wizards reached the domain of the gods. They were greeted by a lone man. He called each man forward, save Bethos, and placed in his hand a large gem. In a loud voice he spoke;”

‘Is iad seo na clocha na cumhachta! Chun gach ceanna a thugtar, ionas gur fíeder leat a leigheas ar an tlamm.’

These are the stones of power! To each one is given, so that you may heal the land.

She paused to wet her lips and could see that Martin was genuinely interested now.

“The stones gave the wizards power over the elements. To Taian, the stone of life was given. Halloran received the stone of earth, Galios; the stone of wind, Petra; the stone of fire, and Teague; the stone of water. The five men looked in awe at their gifts, and the messenger spoke again:”

‘Chun do líne is iad seo cumasach do gach am, mar sin ní fíedir leis an talamh ag fulaingt arís.’

To your line, these are gifted for all time, so the land may never again suffer.

“The five men stepped away from the messenger. They went to Bethos and showed him their treasures. Bethos stood resolutely still, glaring at the god’s avatar. It was not his way to become jealous, but he and the messenger eyed each other for a long time. Finally, the messenger spoke:”

‘Bethos is mo de na fir. Tar ar aghiahd.’

Bethos, greatest of all men. Come forward.

‘Chun tu a thabhairt duinn, do gach am, an Choroin na Beatha.’

To you, we give, for all time, the Crown of Life.

There was a loud laugh, and Alexis looked behind her. Ulf was walking toward them.

“What a load of theatrical nonsense!” He shouted.

“Perhaps a little,” she replied, “but it makes a better story when told this way.”

“Sure,” Ulf retorted, “it makes a bunch of power-hungry fools sound like saints. If you want to tell a story, why don’t you start by telling us where we are going.”

Alexis looked pleadingly at him. “It is not time for you to know that, but I can tell you that this story has everything to do with our destination.”

Ulf did not seem mollified, and he looked on the verge of another protest when Martin spoke.

“Please, Ulf, I want to hear it.” The pain in the boy’s face was evident, and it was apparent he was desperate for any diversion from his grief. Ulf grunted and moved to the stew and stirred the pot.

“Might as well eat if we’re going to have storytime.” He ladled the thick, steaming mix onto three plates and passed them around. He added large chunks of bread then sat down next to the boy.

The stew was magnificent, and, for a time, the three of them sat and ate. When they had cleaned their plates, Ulf refilled them, and they started on a second helping. Now that the pang of hunger had been dealt with, she ate more slowly. Food indeed was balm for the soul, she thought. She felt less weary, and even Ulf’s barbaric eating habits didn’t bother her. When she heard the energetic scraping of spoons on plates slow from the other two, she began her story again.

“However, the stones and the crown came into existence, it is clear that they were mighty. With them, the six men quickly calmed the fighting and established the First Kingdom. It was decreed that the stones would be set into the crown, and the line of Bethos would rule for all time. The five owners of the stones joined to form the Council of Five. Once set into the crown, Bethos gained dominion over the vast power of the stones. But because he was truly humble and honest, the power never corrupted him.”

She paused to take another bite. Ulf and Martin were listening intently, so without comment, she continued.

“Bethos was always kind and generous with his advisers because he knew the vast power they had given up for him. Under their rule, the First Kingdom flourished. The land was healed, and great cities formed. But, men are men, and unrest eventually found its way into the realm. A man named Kalem Dorse gathered a following and demanded a land of his own to rule, free from what he called the stifling tyranny of Bethos. They threatened violence and Bethos, the memory of war still fresh in his mind, relented. He granted the whole of the north to Kalem and decreed that any who wished to follow could do so without fear of harm. This was the start of what we call the Second Kingdom. Though Bethos had given into Kalem’s demands, he was uneasy in his mind. For the first time in nearly a generation, he ordered the army reassembled. They watched the border for any sign of treachery from Kalem, but none was to be found. For all he could discover, Kalem’s rule was fair, and trade was soon established between the two realms. If the kingdom had flourished before, it positively overflowed with prosperity now.”

Ulf cleared his throat, and Alexis paused. “Exactly how does this have anything to do with our current situation?” He asked.

“I told you, now is not the time, but it does. You will know eventually.” She replied.

“Before or after I’m lying dead on the ground,” he muttered.

Alexis pretended not to hear him and continued.

“Bethos’ fears came to pass at last. Either one or all of his advisors worked in secret with Kalem to create a sixth stone, Cloch na Bhias, the stone of death. With this weapon, Kalem waged war on Bethos and very nearly won. In desperation, Bethos devised a plan to defeat Kalem and punish his treacherous advisors. He unleashed all of the power from the five stones at once. The tsunami of power destroyed Kalem and reshaped the land, separating the north from the rest of the realm with a large sheer mountain range. The attack killed Bethos in the process, but before he died, he spoke a prophecy declaring that the stones would have power once again, and another king would come. The advisors looked at their dead king and the useless stones in his crown, descended upon his body, and took the stones. They waged war on each other for control of the land for many years, but when none could prove victorious, they established the Treaty of Five. Each advisor was given a section of land to rule as his own.”

There was a rustling sound, and Alexis looked up. This time it was Martin that had caused the interruption. He was shuffling around and trying hard to stifle a yawn.

“That’s enough for tonight.” She said, looking at Ulf. “Martin needs rest, and we have work to do.” She said.

Ulf nodded and started gathering the plates. He dropped them at her feet and said, “Yes, we do.”

Upper hand lost.