Midafternoon, Empa Clan arrived at Willowstream: a small meandering river that lazed its way south. The trees for which the stream was named provided welcome shade after the two day journey in the sun.

"Shaleh, pass word around that all are to meet by that large willow," said Chief Urlock as he pointed to an ancient, knobbly tree.

Once all were gathered Urlock addressed his people.

"Empa Clan. This is our camp for the rest of the summer. It has everything we need: clean water, timber, shade, and good grass for grazing. All families are to set up tents quickly. At this stage you need only put up the main structure of your tents. You can unpack your belongings later, first we need to do some earthworks. Our priorities, after the basic tents are up, will be setting up the forge, and creating palisades and trenches around camp. Once done, we will dig a pit on the banks of the river to ensure a supply of water through drought or siege. I need not stress that time is against us. We will work through day and night until we are done. There is no rest for any able bodied man, woman or youth. All others, except those unable to walk, will cook and bring cups of water to keep up our strength."

The Clan dispersed. Families staked out their plot of land. For a couple of hours the camp was a chaos of wooden poles and canvas. The village sprang up quickly. Within a few hours it looked like the tents had always been there.

Attention was then turned towards defenses. Chief Urlock paced and marked out where the palisades were to be built. Some took axes to young willows with slender but strong trunks or branches of older trees that were straight enough to be used. Others began digging. Still others cut off trailing willow branches to strip the bark and braid it for temporary rope.

Sometime after midnight Shaleh dropped her shovel and slumped to the ground.

"Gultan," she turned to the young woman next to her.

"Yes?" Gultan stopped digging and used the back of her hand to wipe dirt off her face.

"Do you remember that summer you told your parents you were going to run away, but then we tried to hide you in my tent?"

"Behind your bed wasn't a very good hiding place," Gultan smiled.

"You were always getting me in trouble," Shaleh laughed.

"Me?" Gultan put her hands on her hips. "You're the bad influence, not me! You're the one that dared me to throw the empty wasp nest into Tajar's home!"

"True," Shaleh conceded. "That was a good day."

"We've had a lot of good days."

"Yes." Shaleh looked at her feet. "I'm going to miss them, and I'm going to miss you."

Gultan sat down next to Shaleh and wrapped her arm over her shoulders.

"I will miss you as well, Shaleh."

"No you won't," Shaleh smiled weakly. "Now that you're a mother you'll be too busy to notice I'm gone."

"I'm not even going to reply to that," Gultan pushed Shaleh's head playfully and stood back up. "Self-pity doesn't suit you."

Shaleh nodded her head, picked up her shovel, and stood back up.

"Gultan, would you sing for us all while we dig," she waved her hand to indicate the line of others working on the palisades. "There is something about tonight that feels threatening, like the dargu could attack at any moment."

"Of course," Gultan agreed. "Where to begin..." she muttered. She lifted her head to the stars and looked around, as if searching for inspiration. After a few seconds of silence she must have found it because she filled her lungs and burst into song. She sang an old tune that was usually sung during firewood gathering. It was a playful song about two lovers hiding from each other in the trees. After the first stanza other voices from around the palisade holes joined in. By the end of the song even the shy singers had quietly joined in. No sooner had it finished than Gultan started another one; a mischievous horse stealing song. Soon all had forgotten their tiredness and were swinging axes, and plunging shovels into the ground.

Hours later the sun broke over the horizon. The palisade was still far from finished, but more progress had been made than any of the Clan had thought possible.

***

Gretch the Hunter reached the crest of the final hill that sat at the feet of the mountains. He had crossed the range in two days and three nights. It was an unthinkable achievement. He had not eaten or slept, nor did he need to. The magic in his veins was sufficient.

The Endless Plains stretched flat and infinite before him in the early light. He paused to breathe in the scent of the grass. Everywhere were signs of new life, but they were of no interest to him. His task was not to celebrate life, but to end it. Somewhere in front of him were the thieves who had Liege Marext's box. They would die painful deaths and he would return home victorious to claim his prize.

The life force of the sacrificed slaves vibrated within him, forcing him to move forward. It was an irresistible urge, but he was aware that its strength had lessened. He cast his eyes around The Plains until he saw the glittering ribbon of a river in the morning's light.

Water. Dargu reported to The Liege that the thieves were on the strong river closest to the mountains. Surely they will be in my sight by nightfall.

Perhaps another day to track them if they flee on horseback. I could catch them, kill them, turn back, and cross back over the mountains within seven days, if The Liege's gift is still in my blood.

I have been patient all my life. What is seven more days?

He fixed his gaze on the river below him, drew in a deep breath, and set off.

It only took him a few hours to find traces that people had recently been near the river. By following it upstream he came upon a recently abandoned camp. More than one hundred people would have lived here. He estimated from the state of the ashes he found, as well as the numerous circles of bare earth, that the camp had been abandoned two or three days earlier. Where they had gone was easy to see. A clear trail made from numerous carts, and scores of horses, led north-east. He also discovered some recently dug graves on the outskirt of the camp as well as a burnt pile of dead dargu.

Found them. They must have fled immediately after the dargu attack.

Wise.

A three day head start means it will take me four or five to catch them and another four to return. It is longer than I had hoped.

Patience. A hunter must, above all things, be patient.

He hung his head momentarily in disappointment before inhaling a deep breath and launching himself down the trail that his foes had left.

***

Alam woke later than he had hoped he would. His thumb found the unfamiliar band of silver on his middle finger. The new ring felt foreign. Similar to the axe, it looked beautiful, yet old, with numerous scuffs and scratches in the silver. The other thing it had in common with the axe were the serpent designs that wound around it. He picked up the woman's axe and gazed at it.

Flawless as she that gave it.

Stop it!

Tajar quietly waited while Alam said his morning devotions. He prayed for the safety of his friends and for guidance. The moment he opened his eyes Tajar spoke.

"I have been thinking," he said. There was no trace of his usual flippant manner.

"Yes?" Alam prompted.

Tajar counted on his fingers. "Dargu roaming our lands, sorcerers, a strange man sending threats to us through fire, and the woman in blue. We are too small for such things."

"I know what you mean," agreed Alam.

"The only way we can survive whatever we are in the middle of is to prepare better. I have a structure for our day that I think can make us move faster and be more prepared for enemies."

"That sounds good. What do you have in mind?" asked Alam.

"First of all, no more sleeping in for you," smiled Tajar as he tossed a pebble at Alam.

"What? The sun has only just risen!" protested Alam.

"Exactly! We could have been on the trail an hour ago. Instead I have to sit around listening to you snoring!"

"Fine, I'm getting up," said Alam as he stretched and stood up. "What else does your plan involve?"

"First thing each morning, starting now - we train."

They ran over all of the drills that Serik had taught them until they were hot and dripping with sweat. Through the drills Alam's admiration for the new axe grew. Although it was heavier than his previous axe, the weight was not uncomfortable. Its balance made it a joy to wield.

"This axe is curious," he said to Tajar. "Do you think it could be enchanted?"

"I don't know about your axe, but this bow shoots farther and truer than any other bow I have held. It might be wishful thinking, but I think that Sapphire is a friend, even though she snared us into wearing her rings."

"Sapphire?" asked Alam, raising his eyebrows.

"That's what I have decided to call her until we find her true name," replied Tajar.

"I don't trust her," said Alam. "I don't think that she sees us as friends, and I certainly have no wish to find her true name. She only sought us out to do some service for her. I have a feeling that if we never see her again it would be for the best."

"Pah! You worry too much!" said Tajar as he waved his hand dismissively.

"But I must admit that 'Sapphire' suits her," said Alam.

"Of course," Tajar replied smugly.

"So what do we do now, oh Wise One, who has a plan to keep us alive?" asked Alam with a deep bow.

"We leave the river behind and strike north-east. It's the fastest way to reach Lasthome. But we will need to ride fast, and through the night as much as we can. Our path will lead us through Khashbal Clan's lands."

"Is that wise?" asked Alam.

"To be honest, I don't know. Speed is important for us and going through their lands will take at least two days off of our travel time. I am also eager to move away from the mountains. We are still uncomfortably close to where the dargu attacked us. Thankfully Clan Meet is approaching so it is less likely that we will run into any Khashbal warriors so far out from the heart of their lands."

"Fine," agreed Alam. "Let's go then."

-------------

If you are the voting and commenting kind, please consider doing so.

Y. V. Qualls