They came in when the storm's fury was at its zenith, silhouetted by a bright lightning flash. They jumped at the crash of thunder that came immediately.

He was dark-haired and only a few inches over five foot, wearing a muddy tunic and ragged pants plastered to his skinny frame. He was a few years older than me, as was his wife, though she was bent over, obviously in pain. A girl, maybe six, held his hand as they stood at the edge of the opening. Her dress, tunic, or whatever it was supposed to be, was in tatters and too small, clinging wetly to her bony frame. Her dark eyes, almost hidden by the hair plastered to her head, seemed to take in everything. The wife had rags wrapped around her feet, but the other two were barefoot. All of them had a native Indian look, or maybe Oriental. What was Lord Boian going to say about this?

Ellie waved them in before Lord Boian noticed, pointing to a dry area away from us, and he groaned when he saw them.

"Next thing, you'll be feeding them," he muttered.

"They do look like they could use some food. Jerky and crackers, or should I heat some stew?"

"Whatever you wish, Maid Elexus," the knight said with a sigh. He had at least seemed happier when we changed into more modest clothes that better represented our rank, whatever that was.

Hers was a gauzy long t-shirt...chemise, she called it...under an embroidered and beaded cream-colored long blouse and a brown flowing split skirt that went to her ankles. A colorful loosely woven beaded scarf finished it off, though she tied hers like a sash from her shoulder opposite to her waist. Mine consisted of loose-fitting brown and white striped billowing trousers tied at the waist, a long puffy shirt that went down past my hips, and a colorful crimson vest with lots of patterned beadwork that was similar but different to Boian's. We both had leather shoes but stuck with our running shoes for now.

Ellie had a pot of water sitting on the coals within a couple of minutes. I felt relief that she didn't fire up the gas stove. Gas looked to be in short supply here. Lord Boian started his fire with flint and steel.

"I'm going to shred some jerky and put it into the stew," Ellie said as she ripped open the top of the freeze-dried beef stew package. Ten minutes later, she borrowed my titanium bowl and filled it and hers with stew, took them over along with our titanium sporks, and quietly talked with them before they bowed low to her. She came back, a huge grin on her face.

"They seem quite happy for the food," she said and got a grunt from Lord Boian. She sat next to me and lowered her voice. "I don't get any of this. They look Oriental and not like any Native American I've seen. Our friendly neighborhood knight dresses like he's from the steppes but looks more British or Norse. We can understand each other, though I'm not sure I'm speaking English, even to you right now."

I blinked at her. Of course we were...or were we? I hadn't paid that much attention, but she might be right. It seemed strange. I glanced back at the new arrivals. The man spooned sporkfuls of stew into each of their mouths, one at a time, after blowing the stew cooler. Each of them squatting, the girl staring back at him, though heedless or not caring that her tunic wasn't covering what it should. Ellie's sigh told me she'd seen it, too.

The woman was seriously in pain, though seemed to eat well enough when her turn came, though when her husband moved to the second bowl, she waved away the spork. He continued with himself and the girl, occasionally taking an additional bite as she seemed to slow down. Her eyes never strayed from Ellie and me while she ate.

He said something to the girl, and she took the bowls and sporks to where the deluge was beginning to slacken and rinsed them, getting herself soaked again in the process. She returned to her father, then turned and dropped to her knees, holding the bowl and utensils out at arm's length.

I put my hand on Ellie's arm when she started to get up. "Let her come," I whispered.

Even with the lightness of the titanium, the girl's arms were shaking by the time she got to us, prostrating herself totally as she got close. Ellie leaned forward, took them back, pulled the girl to her as she stood, and knelt. The girl trembled, looking wide-eyed at Ellie, who drew a brush out of her pack. "Turn around and sit down."

Just like Ellie. Adults and even her peers tended to irritate her but give her a kid to take care of.

She worked on the hair for a few minutes before angrily throwing the brush down. "This is a total mat of tangles."

Lord Boian chuckled. "This is what happens when you get involved like this, Maid Elexus."

"Are you saying that I shouldn't get involved?" Yep...annoyed.

"I would not deign to tell you what you should or shouldn't do. I only state the factual outcome, Maid Elexus."

"I see," she said. She seemed to be biting back a retort. "Do you think they would be upset if I cut her hair short?"

"They would do nothing if you slit the urchin's throat," he replied. "It is not for them to say if this child lives or dies while she is with you."

Both the girl and Ellie went stiff. Then Ellie stroked the girl's shoulder.

"What is your name?"

"O...Oana...my lady."

"Oana. That's a pretty name. Would you like me to cut your hair to get all those knots and tangles out?"

"Y...yes...my lady."

Ellie looked at me. "Do you have scissors? I have trauma shears, but I don't think they'd cut hair all that well."

I shook my head.

"Your main gauche looked rather sharp. Would it cut?"

"It's sharp enough to shave with, so I guess so."

"Then let's do that. I'll hold the hair up, and you can cut as close to her head."

I heard chuckling again from the knight as I sawed slowly with the long dagger, it having that slight rainbow glow like my rapier did. The hair parted easily. After a few minutes, we gave Oana a rough shearing that had her looking more like a boy than a girl. She stared at me while I trimmed the sides, then tilted her head back, marking her neck slightly as she ran a fingernail across her throat.

I froze a moment. Did she want this? There wasn't any pleading in her eyes, and they weren't dead-looking. Instead, there was an intensity to her gaze. I wasn't sure what she meant by that.

I smiled, ran the fat part of my forefinger along the mark she'd left, and shook my head. She brought her head back level, though her eyes raised, so she still looked at me.

"Lord Boian," Ellie said, and we both jumped, and a slight smile formed on Oana's face. "Do you have any cloth?"

"For what purpose?" From his tone, he knew precisely where Ellie was going with her request.

"Get her into something that covers her butt."

"There are plenty of guttersnipes out there who don't even bother with what she's wearing."

"That's not the question."

"I think I have a slightly finer grade of burlap than what she's wearing."

"How much."

"Big enough. She'll fit inside without any problem."

I tried to keep a straight face. He was playing Ellie, and she didn't realize it, though he'd gotten her to a temporary loss of words.

Lord Boian put a hand up as she looked like she'd found her words.

"I also have a sack suitable for flour and the like. I could put the waif mostly in it, but her legs would stick out past her knees." He cracked a smile now, and she saw the grin on my face.

"Fine." She thrust her hand out. "I'll take it."

He dug into a saddlebag and pulled it out.

She held it out against Oana and nodded. It looked like a coarse pillowcase with a drawstring, but the width was about right to hang loose on the little girl's body. Then Ellie pulled out a microfiber camp towel, walked Oana toward the opening, and pulled her ragged dress off. A moment later, Oana was out in the new downpour that had just rolled in.

"Is there something she's playing here, or is she just this soft in the heart?"

"The second," I replied.

"If she's not careful, she will own that waif and a dozen more. Lord Kevin, if you could talk some sense into her."

"Lord Boian, do you have a sister?"

He nodded. "You have a point, Milord. Perhaps suggesting that she take the girl off her parents' hands would be a better tactic."

I laughed. "She'd see through that in a half-second. The girl's mother looks awful. I'm not sure if the food helped her or not."

He nodded. "I'd be surprised if she makes it more than a week. I hope wherever they're going is close by, or he'll be pulling a travois."

I wanted to change the subject and better understand where we were going. "So, what's between here and Baemardis?"

"You say you understand the terrain around here."

"In general. At least it looks the same as where we came from."

"We generally travel west, though you understand that means we wind around a lot and end up in the west. We'll go more southerly to my manor first so we all can be properly accoutered and have proper transport before traveling to Bacea Keep and on to Baemardis itself.

I nodded. I knew how hilly the Texas Hill Country was. Lake Travis was created because it was a deep canyon that could hold tons of water...same as the other hill country lakes. Since the lakes weren't there, would that make crossing the river easier or harder?

"So, Lauretti's order to follow the setting sun works pretty well for this time of the year, with the sun near the equinox." I grinned at him, and his eyes narrowed.

"And you saw the Weapons Mistress the Realm when, again?"

"Earlier this afternoon, when she sent us from not here to here." I grew serious again, not wanting to be flippant.

"And you expect to meet her at Baemardis?"

"Eventually. She said it wouldn't be good if they beat us there, so I think we should get there first."

"Who are they?"

"Uncle John, Lauretti, and our parents." At his look, I continued. "Godfrey and Kristiana Covali. There might be others. I'm simply not sure."

"Will they be traveling with an entourage or incognito?"

"I haven't a clue."

"That will have to do then, Lord Kevin. I will have to prepare the Lord Regent and his staff for this eventual arrival of the Crown Lord of the Realm. With your permission, of course."

"Of course," I agreed. "It would seem strange if Ellie and I showed up without any explanation or a story that doesn't holds up well."

"Your current story doesn't hold up at all."

"There is that." I felt like a ten-year-old and wanted to squirm under his steady gaze. "Unfortunately, that's the only story we have, and we're sticking to it."

He nodded again. "And I have to believe you."

"It seems that our weapons are what convinced you."

"That and the names in combination. Crown Lord John of the Realm carried such weapons as did his Mistress of Weapons and a few others of his retinue. I've never seen or heard of such weapons outside of this." He reached over and fingered my vest. "Then your vest and Maid Elexus's shawl also announce that you're of the Realm." He pointed at the beadwork near the top of his vest. "This announces my rank of Primor with this," and his finger dropped slightly, "shows that I belong to the Burgraviate of Bacea, and then to Baemardis itself," as his finger dropped again.

I nodded. I could make out what he said, but it'd take a while to understand this heraldry. "What's with all this Mistress of Weapons and Crown Lord and such? And you're calling me and Ellie Lord and Maid. Can't you just call us by our names?"

Lord Boian looked shocked. "That would be too familiar, especially with Maid Elexus. I would not want to embarrass her or you in such a way. And, of course, you could order my execution to vindicate your honor."

"That seems harsh." I was trying to remember what I knew about feudal societies and social hierarchy. It didn't seem that different from some of those.

"If I spoke familiarly with you because we had become friends for several years, that would be one thing. If I spoke with familiarity to your sister, it would be assumed that I had become familiar with her in other ways and would demean her standing. Do you understand?"

"I do enough, and by having you killed, I'd restore her virtue."

He smiled then, then wagged a finger at me. "You understand better than you want me to believe."

Ellie brought a towel-wrapped Oana back, her damp hair lying worse than when it was dirty. Trauma shears in hand, Ellie cut head and arm holes out of the bag and slipped it over Oana's outstretched arms. It settled with ample room, and Ellie continued trimming around those cuts.

The bag hung almost to Oana's ankles. Ellie snipped a small hole at each knee and pulled the bag up and off, cutting the hem.

Oana had a farmer's tan. Her shoulders weren't Anglo-white like mine, but not as tanned as my arms. That complexion seemed correct for these latitudes, I supposed. Not something I'd ever given much thought to. Her face was some sort of Oriental, or maybe this was what some of the early native tribes looked like. The Navajo originally came from western Canada and the Comanches from Wyoming or Nebraska or something like that. I was out of guesses as to where to place her look. Who lived here five thousand years ago? People like her? Not people with blond handlebar mustaches and goatees. Not horses, either.

I had to quit thinking like that, but it was hard. The land seemed correct, so why not the people? I was probably trying to make sense of something that wouldn't make sense yet to me. We were someplace wholly different, yet we spoke their language.

Ellie slipped the flour sack dress back on Oana, kissed her clean forehead, patted her butt, and pushed her back toward her parents.

I grinned at her. "Is your project finished?"

"Yep. She's better than she was. Clean, dressed more decently, and with a full belly. They'll head their way in the morning, and we'll head ours."

I nodded. That was Ellie. Things get chaotic, and she focuses on one thing she can quickly accomplish. Me...I just stayed scattered and tried to figure out everything at once, and it definitely wasn't working now.

"Lord Boian," Ellie asked quietly. "What's next?"

"Try to sleep. This storm's dying down, so if there aren't more, it should be comfortable sleeping weather."

"And if there are more?"

"Then it'll be noisy, comfortable sleeping weather, Maid Elexus," he replied with a smile.

I pulled out what seemed to be a thin down comforter and shook it out. It compacted down in the bag, but plenty for me to roll up in. Ellie did the same against the wall, with me a couple of feet from her, and Lord Boian settled down between us and the openings.

A glance across the opening showed that Oana and her parents nested together, her dad against the wall spooning into her mom, and Oana held tightly in turn.