He passed her by with another nod and on impulse Britta asked, "Who are you?" Even her seemingly built in fear of The Strange Man could not temper her new curiosity.

"Micah." He said curtly. "I oversee things here."

Britta nodded. "I'm Bren." She held out her hand to shake.

Micah ignored it and stepped past. "Who said I wanted to know who you are?"

Britta wrinkled her nose. "It's a courtesy. I don't expect you to remember."

He walked away silently and Britta hoped her mouth hadn't just gotten her into a whole lot of trouble. Despite this, she rejoiced at her newfound bravery. She turned and followed the path down at a swift pace and came to the cliffs. They were so tall she could hardly see the top, but she wasn't scared of heights as Diana was and didn't expect to fall.

With sure footsteps she began climbing, looking for holds in the rock. She slipped a few times but managed to regain her hold and keep going. She had climbed trees many times which gave her an advantage. The ivy of the Abbey wall was also similar and she had climbed that often enough. The cliff was much bigger, and relief shot through her when she got to the top. She spent a few minutes panting on the grass before sitting up, massaging her hands where the rock had dug in. Dissatisfied with her lack of fitness, she scanned the area under the brightening sky. She would need to gather herbs for her breathing on the way back.

She could see the training camp from where she stood, surrounded by a huge expanse of trees. The group of buildings was a single patch of grey surrounded by the evergreen forest. If she leaned forwards she could almost touch the treetops. Not far away, where the mountains started, pine trees began to climb their slopes. She noted the suns rising position and knew that soon most other people would be awake. With a sigh, she made up her mind to run here every morning and climb the cliff. She needed the exercise. Instead of climbing down the cliff she leaned out and grabbed one of the trees. She scaled down that quickly and easily, ignoring the needles which stuck into her hair.

On her run back she noticed the sound of running water and moved to that instead. She noticed a small stream immediately and wondered if it was far enough from the trail that she could bathe. She followed the stream upriver until she came to the clear spring which fed it. Pushing her sweaty hair from her brow she decided she could do with a quick rinse and looked around for any signs of anyone else. When she could see nothing, she pulled off her clothes and was immediately glad she'd be getting something to replace them. They were frayed where she had cut the ends of the trousers, and everything was travel-stained. She considered washing them but knew they wouldn't have time to dry, so instead got in the water and washed out her hair. She ran her fingers through the shorn locks and enjoyed its new length. It would grow fast, but she decided that when it got long enough, she would put it in the same ponytail at the nape of her neck as she had seen Micah wearing his.

She quickly dried herself off, using her hands to push most of the water droplets from her skin and the sun to dry herself. After pulling on her clothes, she hurried back to the camp.

Britta? Where are you? Diana asked just as Britta entered.

I'm just coming in now. I went for a run, and then I meet the guy who runs the camp; Micah, and he directed me to place where I could practice climbing. On the way back I had a quick swim to clean myself off.

Wake me next time, I have a feeling we won't be able to wash with everyone else! There was joking in Diana's tone.

Why are you so happy? Britta asked.

We're in a new place and we're going to be able to begin training.

You'll have to get used to heights Diana. Britta warned her.

A small tingle of fear pricked her mind and she knew it wasn't going to be easy. Britta pulled herself back through the window and grinned at Diana. Diana stuck out her tongue.

"Wake me up next time." She whispered, annoyed. "I'd love to get myself clean."

"I will." Said Britta. "But you're going to have to work for that bath. You're coming climbing with me."

Diana nodded reluctantly. "I guess I have to get used to heights." With a yawn, she washed her face with some cold water from the wash basin and opened the door. Other people were also awake now.

"Should we go in and get our clothes and weapons?" Asked Britta. "I think I remember the way."

"I'm eating breakfast first, but yes, then we'll get our clothes." Diana agreed.

They left to breakfast and ended up eating a bowl of thick porridge which they both enjoyed, even though the flavour made Britta think sadly of the harvest days at the Abbey, where they would get the same kind of food.

I wonder how the others are getting on? Britta asked, continuing her train of thought.

And how many people are searching for us?

Knowing Mistress Core the story has probably blown way out of proportion.

As long as Fee and Bella don't get in trouble.

Of course, they wouldn't, why would they?

I don't know... Who will Mistress Layla work with now?

There were so many questions in each of their minds. Maybe one day we'll go and see. Said Britta finally.

With breakfast finished, Britta went up and put her bowl on the bench, very much enjoying not having to be the one to wash it. Diana followed and they walked swiftly down to hall to where they had been told to get their clothes. Britta slapped her hand on the desk like she had seen other men do to get the keepers attention.

He came at a leisurely pace, a clipboard in his hand. "Names?" He asked.

"Duane and Bren."

"Yes, your things are ready." He said, turning around and reaching up into one of the wooden shelves which were nailed roughly to the wall.

He handed them each a bundle of clothes and, in another bundle, shoes, and weapons.

"Don't let me see you for another few months. You need to stitch up rips and keep things clean yourselves."

The twins nodded and left quickly to their cabin.

"Do we dress in training clothes?" Asked Britta uncertainly.

"That's why we're here." Said Diana laying out hers beside Brittas.

Britta's practice clothes were light and supple to allow movement. Both pieces were tight fitting and Britta frowned slightly as she pulled them on.

"I think they can tell." She said quietly, motioning to her waist at the slight bulge of her chest.

Diana nodded and bit her lip. Suddenly with a smile, she passed Britta one of her three tunics and said, "Wear that around your waist, it should hide your shape better."

Diana's had a chain mail piece which covered her chest, but leather everywhere else. Armbands snaked up both of her forearms, and the clothing was not as tight fitting, but she also tied a shirt around her waist.

"These clothes are so soft," Britta said with a sigh.

Aside from the armour, they each had three shirts of an earthy brown colour, and three breaches which were the same shade and very similar to the ones they had brought in Weatherston. The shirts fit much looser on these.

They had three pairs of footwear. The ones that were packaged with Britta's armour were strong but light. Thick enough to protect her feet but supple enough to make climbing easy. Another pair were black boots, riding boots, Britta assumed, as they had heels to grip the stirrups. Britta was nervous about riding but knew she would have to learn and she had loved working with the horses in the Abbey. The last pair were simple boots, serviceable and for everyday wear. Britta slipped on the first pair, and then belted the dagger around her waist. At first, the belt was cold against her skin, but it quickly shaped itself to her body and became as comfortable as the hunting knife she'd worn before. Curiously, she pulled one of the daggers out. It was made of a strong, silver-grey metal, with a leather-wrapped hilt. She felt the edge. Sharp but not so sharp as to make it delicate.

Diana slung the bow over her back like she had seen the other men at camp doing. She had inspected the arrows and found the tips barbed and deadly - if she could learn to shoot straight, that was. All her footwear was the same as Brittas, except the boots she was to wear with her armour. Though they were still light they were heavier then Brittas and gave more protection against the ground.

Looking at each other, they felt for a moment as though they were playing a strange game of dress up. Britta smoothed her costume down again and, sending her sister an awkward smile, followed her into the courtyard, blending in with the men milling about, waiting for something. With another look at the heads around her, Britta turned in the same direction. A man stepped out at the front of the crowd. Britta had trouble seeing him over the people in front of her but guessed it was the ice-eyed man, Micah, who stood there.

"Morning. I trust you are all up and ready." He scanned the crowd. There was a murmur of assent even though he clearly hadn't meant it as a question. "We have the last of our recruits in and you will be starting to train today. You will first learn to ride, build stamina and get the very basics of your weapon. You are expected to practice until you master what you have been taught." He spoke carefully, each word clear and ringing out amongst the waiting crowd. "A few weeks ago, we sent our last trainees to where we wanted them to go – a mission to protect what is ours-"

"Very non-specific," Britta muttered to her twin. Diana nodded, eyes glued to Micah.

"-And now, you will train to follow them. You have been recruited for various reasons, which you would have been told had you been clever enough to ask. When you are done your training, you will go to work in the fields. Unless you are among the best. Then you will go on a mission so important that I will only tell you once you have proven yourself." He stepped back. "Your choice of course. Only know that now you have begun you cannot leave." He looked over his audience, his eyes glittering with an unspoken threat.

The talking began the moment he left, but the twins stayed silent.

Just what, I wonder, did we sign up for?

We can't leave now. Said Britta firmly.

Another man stepped to the front. He was tall, slightly bow-legged, and wore black riding boots. "This mornin' you'll spend ridin'. You'll pick your mount and learn how ta' keep 'im or her clean. You'll get gear good for yer position." He swiped his hand in a gesture for them to follow.

The group of people was lead around the big house and into the stables. It was their own responsibility to pick the horse best for them. The twins were pushed to the back and by the time they got there, there were only a few horses left. The best ones had been taken; the most lively and the best looking. Diana went straight to a mare, the same brown colour as her eyes. The two accepted each other immediately. As far and Britta could tell the only reason the mare hadn't been picked was that of her smaller size.

She looked around the stables and her heart sank when she saw the remaining horses. One old greying mare, an overweight gelding and another mare with drooping, dead eyes. Britta crossed her arms over her chest. She would need to work with her horse day and night and she refused to use one of these. She walked up to the stable-hand.

"Do you perhaps have another horse? I can't use any of these."

"Sorry mister, that's all we have."

Britta shut her eyes for a moment and reached out, feeling the tell-tale shadow of a lie. "You're lying." She said firmly, ignoring the urge to experiment more with this form of the voice. "You have another horse, don't you? Just let me see it. I can decide for myself." She didn't realize her voice had taken on another, more persuasive tone. Slightly dazed, the stable-hand nodded and let Britta through to the back.

"He's not fit for riding, violent and the likes. He's got the best blood him for ages around but was mistreated and won't let anyone near 'im."

Britta just nodded. "You'll see me back here tomorrow, I'm going to ride him one day."

"He's a stallion, it's impossible." Britta stood up straighter at his tone.

"I'll use the old mare for now." She decided, "But I'll come back and work on the stallion."

She left to his mutterings of arrogant boys and moved to the mare. Her eyes were still lively, but Britta doubted she could go particularly fast and knew she would need a replacement. She sighed and led the mare to the tack shed, listening to the instructions the man from before was giving them in his clipped accent.

"My name is Eidem." He said. "I'm your instructor for now. Some of you's will know how to ride already, most of you won't've had access to a mount. I want you's to measure your horse, one 'and over the other. The number of 'ands should be th' size o' the tack you use." He paused to let everyone continue the measuring. Britta stored the information away so she could use it later on the stallion. "Now, I want you to find the sign with the measurement you got on it. Grab the saddle 'n put the bridle over the top. It might need some adjusting but you should be able to figure it out. Now hurry up – you don't need me to hold ya 'and."

She did it slightly reluctantly, fumbling with the straps and buckles and trying to remember the specific order. She ended up in the line beside Diana as Eidem paced up and down. Once the horses were geared up they were given basic riding lessons. Although Britta listened attentively, her mind was back on the stallion living in the cramped conditions of the stable.

With a sudden insight she concentrated harder on the mare. She wondered if The Voice would help her with this. Hoping she could talk to the mare as she did with Diana, she half closed her eyes, only dimly concentrating on where she was going. The mare's steady pace continued, even without her guidance.

Hello? Can you hear me?

I hear.

Britta smiled at the small success. The voice she was hearing sounded old, though not particularly frail. There was a rough quality to it that made her sure that she was hearing the mare.

What's your name?

Hoshi. Hoshi is my name.

Hoshi?

White on nose is star. Hoshi means star.

It is very nice to meet you Hoshi, my name is... Bren.

Bren is mare.

Yes, my real name is Britta and I am a mare.

Why no tell? You dress like a stallion and do not ride as a mare does.

Then how could you tell I was mare?

Scent. Smell like mare.

You mean I'm clean.

Clean, not so much. There was a joking tone in her voice.

Hey! Said Britta, almost forgetting how strange this conversation was. There were none of the awkward feelings which came with human conversations.

I am not clean either.

I'll give you a sponge bath when we get back.

Legs ache.

You are too old for this aren't you?

Hoshi flicked her ears back.

Am not 'old' can still walk, have four legs, and can still think.

That's not what I meant. Said Britta hurriedly correcting her balance as Hoshi picked up her pace.

What did you mean if you did not mean I was old when you said I was old?

I meant after a long life of working and being ridden you deserve a rest. You have seen much more then I have seen and done much more then I have done and you shouldn't have to keep doing this.

Have seen twenty-nine summers of being ridden. Have galloped into battle many times. Had many foals and seen them grow.

A flash of memory flooded Britta's vision. Galloping into battle with a rider settled on her back. Nosing a newborn foal to its feet. Britta stroked the mare, taking the moment to absorb the shock of seeing the world as a horse does.

You have seen a lot. I think you deserve a rest. Long days of grazing, only short rides for exercise. But I need another horse. Who is the stallion in the shed?

Is strong. But is scared. Has been hurt and refuses to listen. No saddle will be put on his back, no human shall ride him.

What about me? I would be gentle. Never hurt him. If he does not work he will be made into.... horse meat.

The mare balked, beside her, Diana turned and helped steady her.

What are you doing? She asked.

Talking.

Diana rolled her eyes and turned back to the front, assuming her sister meant to her and not her horse.

Another hidden mare.

Yes, she is my sister, we –

Horse meat. Hoshi interrupted.

Yes, you need to help him trust me. If I can ride him you can get rest, but I need you to talk to him. I won't even ride him straight away, just clean him and his stable, and learn his name. But I need your help. He will trust you, won't he?

Trust other horse. Not people.

I am different.

Yes, intelligent enough to understand.

Britta stopped for a moment and realized the mare was whinnying and nickering as she spoke. Britta might have been talking in her head but the mare was talking with noise also. She would need to do this with the stallion if she couldn't get close to him.

Hang on a minute.

She listened intently to the soft whinnies and nickers of the others horses and began to make out words. Drawing The Voice up to her eyes she could also see the movements contributed to part of their language. She cleared her throat and tried a nicker. It came out as a strangled croak. She imagined breathing in The Voice.

I need to talk.

She mentally shouted at it. She tried again this time, a quiet but horse-like nicker flowed from her lips. The horses nearest to her twisted to get a better view, causing their riders to have to pull them in a full circle to get back on track. Britta almost grinned before remembering not to. They had heard her.

How was that? She asked Hoshi.

You told them to listen.

That's what I was thinking at the time.

Why?

I was asking The Voice to let them hear me.

What is the voice?

It is what me and Diana have always called it. It's like magic, I mean, the talking is, other things have happened too.

Can you heal?

Not with The Voice, I'm too scared to try. I can use herbs and medicines though.

You will need to heal the stallion. They whip him and hurt him. Blundering oafs – it won't help.

I'll do my best.

Britta's conversation was idle after that. Every now and then she broke away to talk to Diana of to concentrate when they were doing a new task. There were only a few other horses, Diana's among them, that began trotting as they were told to. Hoshi knew exactly what she was supposed to be doing and Diana's brown mare was as confident. Britta wondered if her sister was also using The Voice.

Hey Di, you're communicating with your mare quite well.

Her names Fawn.

Did she tell you?

I just thought...

I'm talking to Hoshi, she told me her name.

How? Britta could tell Diana wanted to try.

It's just like using The Voice. My head aches but not a lot.

I wondered what you were doing.

Britta smiled as Fawn slowed to a walk. She knew her sister was concentrating from the dimming of her own eyes. She felt the spark of Diana's success. Britta fought the urge to smile and nodded at her sister when she caught up.

Before noon they rode briskly back to the stables and brushed down their horses. Britta raced out to the forest, finished before the others as Hoshi had cooperated easily. She came back with wild carrots, handed some to Diana for her horse and then fed the rest to Hoshi.

Small yellow roots better than hay.

They're called carrots, I'll bring you more soon, I need to go get lunch.

Britta had changed out of her armour when it had been announced that they were going riding but after lunch she retied the shirt around her waist, making sure it wouldn't come off, and pulled on the supple boots with her dagger around her waist.

Diana pulled her bow over her back.

"Will you be okay with the heights?" Britta asked softly.

Diana bit her lip. "They might not make us climb so high today. But I'll come with you in the mornings to get..." She paused, clutching her hands together. "...get used to them."

Britta nodded, knowing that her sister's fear was something that could have been prevented. Someone could have helped her with it. She felt a small spark of anger with the Abbey and the people in it, although she had long since told herself that it was just the way things had turned out.

Outside there were people calling out for certain weapon users to come to them. Britta quickly found the person calling out for a 'Rouge' to come to them. She saw the dagger clutched in his hand and realized he was calling for her weapon. Diana's sharp eyes picked out the bowmen equally fast. Britta squeezed her sister's hand and then left to the group of people in similar armour to what she was wearing.

The people standing around her were uniformly smaller than the sword fighters, though there were a few who looked as well muscled. Britta was not particularly strong but moved stealthily and even gracefully from her days tracking in the Abbey, and the long trek through White Hart Woods. She was also fast. She knew she would need to build endurance but she was quick on her feet when she needed to be.

They were led to the far end of the training area by a man with dark hair and hazel eyes which darted from left to right very quickly. He was small but held himself in such a way that he looked commanding, and crafty.

"I am your teacher." He announced. He spoke haltingly like he was still learning the language. "I am the Fox. My colleges will also teach you – the Badger and the Rat. These names represent our skills and our competency in them. You will find the sword training master is the Rhino and archery is the Sparrow. You will listen to us and learn quickly, it is what we are known for and not because the dagger is an easy weapon to use. You will also learn to fight without a weapon, and to spy and track. We are versatile in our ways. If you are good enough, one day you could choose a name of your own." He paused and met the eyes of those in front of him, one by one. "I want you to pull your dagger out like this-" His hand was a blur and there was a flash of silver. "I pull it out like this because it is hard to see if you do it right." He demonstrated again more slowly and at his indication everyone copied.

Britta was quick to learn this, and more anxious to do better because of her true identity. No praise was given to anyone but a few men were berated for being too slow.

"I want you to wear these knives from now on and when you see us around you are to pull your dagger out in a salute. If you are too slow, then do not expect to get off lightly. To warm up, you will practice this. It is called a pattern dance. Pattern dances are not dances as you may know them, they are a quick series of tactics such as blocks, attacks, and dodges which warm you up and help you practice. Perform them in your spare time and add in any new skills you have been taught. When you fight you should not have to think. You just do, when an enemy attacks you will block when you see an opening, you will attack."

He then showed them a series of quick blocks attacks and rolls, moving like a snake and slicing his dagger through the air. He wasn't so much as panting when he was done.

"You will first try this first part. A simple block, dodge, and attack. They are the basis on which many things are learned."

Everyone followed him. Britta was among the first to lose her balance and corrected herself hurriedly, this time watching his footwork and concentrating on that. After a few minutes, she felt her balance even out and then had trouble putting the footwork and the hand movements together. A hand steadied her from behind. She turned to see the Fox studying her critically through his dark eyes.

"You are quick, and your balance is good, but you need a way to work with both. When you move too fast you must stop and correct your balance. Your balance is more important for now, you will get speed later." His eyes stopped on her arms. "And hopefully strength." He added, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a grin, making his white teeth stand out in his tanned face.

Britta nodded quietly and was glad he had given her help. She practiced the movements slower before speeding up and found her muscles already aching by the time she felt she was satisfied. She grimaced and straightened up out of her fighting stance, rubbing her arms and trying to loosen them. She turned to find someone glaring at her.

"Show off." He said. He had long lashes for a man and held himself in such a way that Britta could see he would regret any scars which might soon come to stretch over his handsome face.

"I'm not trying-" She paused, realizing she was speaking as she had at the Abbey, although at least, she supposed, she was talking in general. She pursed her lips; she didn't need to justify herself to him.

He watched her warily, looking at her with intelligent grey eyes. It was as if he was scanning her for her secret, one Britta certainly didn't want him to know. She felt his gaze for another few seconds, and then he progressed with the same series of movements as Britta had been practicing. She hoped that she had not looked so clumsy. Wanting to show she could do it as well as him she forgot her aching muscles and launched herself into the quick series of movements. There were only three and she was so fast that it only took a few seconds, but in that moment, everything clicked into place, and she knew this was what she was supposed to be doing.

***

"Small yellow roots" wild carrots are a yellow/whiteish colour (And if not then I'll justify it by saying this is a made up world) But yeah, thanks for reading... if you did read :)