It had been a fortnight and a day since her encounter with the Witch Queen's army when she arrived at Castle Reginwald in the domain of Count Friedbert of Widden. The Count was near kin to King Ottokar and had wedded Princess Luitgard, the daughter of King Amalric of Gotland. Because it had become the refuge of King Amalric and what remained of his retainers, Widden became known as the Lesser Gotland. By remaining here, the Gotlanders did not get absorbed into the court of King Ottokar, as had happened with the kings of Bergeny and Polona and their followers, as well as the surviving nobles of the other three fallen kingdoms. The remnant of Skadia was sure to follow the example of the five rather than the one. If the Witch Queen was ever vanquished, rather than the Eight Kingdoms being restored in full, some feared it would be only one kingdom with the Lothrians ruling over all others.

These were weighty matters, but the girl was not so concerned about what shape the government might take after the war. The war had to be won first and that was why her mission was so important. She only hoped the power she had gained over the past seven years would be enough. Clearly she underestimated the enemy at Luten. She would not get off so easily a second time and so she needed to gather allies with the strength to stand against the Witch Queen.

The castle town of Reginwald was lively and bustling, such a difference from the dour and desolate Luten. The girl had the privilege of enjoying several towns and cities since her escape, but never did her heart dance as much as now. Seven years and finally she would be able to take her first real step toward fulfilling her father's will.

Of course, after all these years, she could not expect to simply walk into the castle and assemble the survivors of the Five Champions. She needed a way to get in. She needed someone who could speak on her behalf. However, when she thought of the best person for this, she was more than a little reluctant. She imagined he did not want to see her any more than she wanted to see him, but it could not be helped.

First, she needed to ascertain if he was even in this city. She sought out an alleyway where she could work her arts without drawing any unwanted attention. After all, you did not simply practice magic in the middle of a busy street, especially when everyone was frightened to death of witches.

Even after these seven years, the link between master and pupil was clear in her mind. Such bonds were like a shortcut when it came to seeking another's presence. The thread connecting their two souls was somewhat frayed from disuse, but the pulse of energy from her followed that thread to its destination and echoed back to her. Now that the connection had been made, she did not have to concentrate as much while tracing her way to him and could safely walk the streets without being conspicuous.

With so much going on around her, it was difficult to divide her attention as she needed, but this was where she fell back on her training. The wilds rarely afforded you the luxury of singular focus and the shaman who taught her was never one to go easy on her. At least here, there was nothing trying to kill her, at least not at the moment.

Just as she was starting to get comfortable with the idea that the relative danger was low, her path took her to a seedier part of town. In such places, men could be as ravening wolves and a lone girl such as her would certainly appear to be easy prey. She kept her pace steady but brisk. She did not want to tarry, but if she would start to run, the dogs would take up the chase.

In her eagerness to get off the streets, she did not pay any attention to what sort of establishment she was entering and found herself in a dimly lit tavern blanketed in a haze of incense. Only it soon became clear that this tavern served more than just drinks. What she saw did not bear repeating and this is what was done in the open. She did not want to think about what the people here would do out of the sight of prying eyes.

The girl was tempted to turn back right away, but the trail had led her here and she could not abandon her purpose. It was strange that she felt more dread here than when she faced the Witch Queen's army. She plucked up her courage and proceeded inside. She looked around for any sign of the man she was searching for, all the while being careful that her eyes did not linger any one place for long. Not only were the sights things she did not want to remain in her memory, but she very much wanted to avoid provoking anyone. As with wild animals, you did not want to be caught meeting the eyes of such people.

The alewife, a hunchbacked woman with a face like a knotted piece of driftwood, came out from behind the counter and approached the girl, saying, "Wot ye doin' 'ere, lass? Ye 'ere fer work, is ye? Me an' my mistah, we pays our hoors a penny a day, a ha'penny if ye's 'spectin' us ta lodge ye."

She cocked her head and reached out to touch the girl's face.

Ignoring the job offer, the girl said, "I'm looking for someone."

The girl looked around the room and she saw the stairs leading up to the second story. That was where she needed to go, but if she tried just going up the stairs, the alewife might sic her customers on her. The girl did not want to take on all seven rough-looking men at once, but if it was just one of them...

Though the girl spoke truthfully, the alewife looked at her suspiciously. Perhaps it was because of the girl's Elven blood that she did not quite look her age.

One of the bigger and more ill-favored of the men, who was missing a chunk of his left ear and had scar going up his right cheek where his beard would not grow, set down his tankard of ale and rose up from his seat, causing the whore who was sitting on his lap to fall off. He approached the girl and took hold of her, opening up her cloak and letting it fall to the floor. His eyes widened a little, probably not expecting someone dressed as she was. An unpleasant grin twisted the corner of his mouth as he took a moment to size her up.

The man, Ulrich, took out his coin purse and fished out a small silver coin, handing it to the alewife as he said, "A Weißpfennig should do ye fair, Mutti. Maybe ye kin give me a taste a' the mister's spirits when I'm done."

Ulrich's eyes went to the knives hanging off the girl's belt and drew one out of its sheath.

He squinted as he got a better look at it.

The girl was reluctant to give up her gear, but she could always reclaim it later. While the alewife was at it, she took the knife from Ulrich and stooped down to pick up the girl's cloak as well.

With that taken care of, Ulrich took hold of the girl's arm and tugged on it, saying, "Come on, wench."

Ulrich glanced at the alewife, who told him, "Room's open. Firs' door, now. Secon' door's got that fancy lad."

'Fancy lad', was it? That would be the girl's master. What was he doing in a place like this?

Ulrich pulled the girl along, telling her again, "Come on."

They went up the creaky stairs and into a small room with a straw mattress covered with a stained linen sheet. As there was no light in the room, they were plunged into darkness when Ulrich closed the door.

The girl figured her performance had gone on long enough. While Ulrich was fumbling with the laces of his breeches, she reached up and touched him on the forehead. In an instant, his eyes rolled back and he fell just shy of the mattress. That would probably leave a bruise or two.

Back in the hallway, the girl went to the next room, only to stop herself before reaching for the door. Whatever was going on in there, she did not want to see it and it was definitely no way for her to reunite with her master. She opted to wait outside until he was finished.

She may have spared herself the sights of what was going on in the room, but unfortunately, that did not prevent her from hearing it. Her hearing was not so keen as a full-blooded Elf, but from what she understood, it was markedly better than the average person. She tried to not think about it, to not imagine it, but she was not having much success.

She found herself thinking about her time with the Ral'shee. There was no prudery with them. When the mating season came, the victorious males would couple with the females out in the open in a display of their dominance. She was too young to think anything of it in the early years, but as she got older, she developed a sort of instinctual embarrassment over the whole thing.

Her training had been harsh, but she already found herself longing for the wilds. Had she truly tired of civilization so quickly? Did it take only a few scenes of ugliness for her to reject all of it? Perhaps so, but she could never allow herself to forget her mission. Whatever she might think or feel had to come second. Once she achieved her purpose, she would be free to go where she pleased, but that time was still far on the horizon.

However, she took the next step forward on her path when the door opened and her master emerged. Seven years had passed and he had disguised himself as a burgher of modest means, but there was no mistaking him. Of course there was their magical connection as well.

Kolman stopped dead in his tracks and turned to look at her. His eyes went up and down the length of her as he struggled to make sense of what he was seeing.

Lys nodded.

Amid this hail of questions, Lys took notice of the bundle tucked under Kolman's arm.

Kolman defensively moved to cover the bundle with his other hand, as if Lys was going to snatch it away from him.

To deflect from his embarrassment, his voice took a harsh edge as he asked again, "What are you doing here, Lys?"

Kolman touched his forehead.

Lys flexed her toes and said, "On these two feet."

Lys followed Kolman down the stairs. Naturally, the alewife was surprised to see Lys return with a different man than the one she left with.

Lys went over to the alewife and said, "I found who I was looking for. I'd like my stuff back now."

Kolman muttered something under his breath, then dug around in his coin purse to produce two little gold coins.

The alewife's face contorted into what must have passed for a smile, baring what few crooked teeth remained in her mouth.

Lys didn't have time to check all her pouches to make sure the alewife hadn't pilfered anything, but at least she was sure she had her knives. Once she wrapped herself in her cloak, she and Kolman were out the door.

Once they were outside, Lys told Kolman, "One of those men may well slit that woman's throat for those bits of gold."

The two of them made their way back to the main thoroughfare about as quickly as a person can while still considered to be walking. If any of the men from the house of ill repute had a mind to follow them, they did not manage to catch their prey in time.

Once they were in somewhat safer surroundings, the former master and pupil could relax a little. Kolman wasted little time seeking answers he did not get earlier.

Kolman furrowed his brow.

Kolman stopped walking and balled up his hand into a fist.

Quite a few passers-by stopped due to his outburst and there was an uncomfortable quiet that descended on them.

Kolman stormed off without another word and said nothing until they reached a little cottage not far from the walls of the castle.

Lys eyed the dress he carried under his arm but saw the wisdom in saying nothing.

When they entered the cottage, they were soon greeted by a plump matron.

Now was definitely not the time to bring up her encounter with Maus and the Witch Queen's army in Skadia.

All of this was well beyond the ken of the humble matron, who simply bobbed her head and said, "As you will, Master Kolman. I'll be gettin' that bath drawn."

With no small amount of sarcasm, Lys curtseyed low and said, "As you say, Master Kolman."

For the first time, Lys felt guilty for what she had done. The King had always been like an uncle to her. She should have said something to him before she left, but even as a child, she knew that if she told anyone her purpose, they would try to stop her. She knew her mission had to come before everything else.

Lys nearly let slip her experience in Skadia, but she held her tongue. Kolman's warning was not needed, though. She had not been in the habit of practicing her arts where people could see her up and she did not intend to start now.

Lys remembered Kolman as being short-tempered, but she did not think he had always been this bad.

Kolman sniffed contemptuously.

Lys had only been back a matter of hours and already she wanted to run off again. Still, she needed to bear it. This was a small thing compared to the trials to come.