"I hadn't expected this many."  She said as she poured the tea.  She had
managed to get back with the teacakes just in time to answer the door. 
Needless to say she was shocked to see a man with Cynthia.  She guessed
that next time she would be more specific with her letters.

	"I hope this is not an imposition?"  Trevor adjusted in his seat while
balancing the small teacup and saucer on his knee.  She guessed it was
something men just never learned to do, or just an anatomy thing.  Cynthia
and she had the cups perfectly balanced on their knees and didn't drop a
crumb of cake on themselves.

	The children sat around a table not far off and ate the cake and had some
milk.  She had rewarded the girls with a necklace each, and gave Demee a
gold crown.  She didn't think he would have a chance to spend it, and she
doubted she would find a place to spend it either.  And she had brought
enough gold to support a small army; she could pass up on a few pieces. 
She was under the impression that when winter came, they would find the
gold useful in buying food.

	"No imposition at all, I just hope we don't bore you with our woman talk."
She winked at Cynthia, "You know, about dresses and things."  She sipped
her tea.

	"You must have been traveling for some time to have come this far south." 
Cynthia put her cup down with a small clink.  "You must be very brave to
bring them all this way."

	She had mentioned about the caravan, apparently the Warrenlady wasn't even
aware that she had a guest.  "It isn't me, it is my husband's ambition that
drives him on these mad ideas."  She hoped she would pick up on the
wording, this would call for subtly here.  She wasn't to say anything out
right about Vorbis, but she could color the field a little with the right
hints.  "That is one thing my Husband has never fallen short on is
ambition.  If he has a goal, he meets it."

	Cynthia smiled as they sipped their tea together.  Trevor just caught his
cup from somersaulting off his lap.  "Sounds like a man who will go far." 
Trevor commented trying to take the focus off his lap.

	"Some would say too far, but then my husband would say they would fail
where he wins."  Amberylle looked directly at Cynthia.  "I am sure he has
his designs on here as well.  The Nomadlands are ripe, he believes."  

	"Oh, they are, if you can get water to it."  Trevor took some cake and
placed it precariously on his small saucer.  "There is a lot of good land
out there, I should know, I have mapped a lot of it."

	Cynthia looked at the children as they raised their voices over some small
detail on the necklaces, something about the stones.  "Do you and your
husband have any children?"

	Amberylle smiled, Cynthia knew the questions to ask.  It wasn't about
children at all; it was about their marriage.  "No, we haven't been blessed
with that kind of love in our marriage yet.  What about you?"

	"None now," Cynthia sipped her tea, "but I am sure that will not be a
problem for long."

	Trevor must have swallowed his tea wrong because he coughed slightly. 
Cynthia smiled at him, and Amberylle understood what she had meant.  A
small smile was hidden behind a teacup.

*********************************************************************

	"You have very long hair."  Andorra said as she brushed out the young
girl's hair.  A dozen ribbons had been set aside to braid into her hair,
she would make sure Raine's daughter was very well taken care of.

	They had seen the two off, she doubted that the little one realized the
danger that her mother was in.  She herself could only comprehend because
of the wraiths she had seen attack villages.  Whole villages gone, just
sitting tents in the middle of nothing, lucky to find even bones.  No one
touched the things they found after the death cloud had been there.

	She looked up and froze in her seat.  

	"Do you think the green ribbon should go in first Andorra?"  The little
girl looked up holding the green ribbon.  Andorra took it and started to
braid the child's hair automatically.  

	Her eyes stayed fixed on the dark rider, C'aranth.  He had walked to the
stables, he was dressed from head to toe in armor, and a long lance he used
on dragons was holding a black standard.  He stepped into the horses'
stables and she simply watched the door.

	"Andorra."  The child pleaded as she tugged on Andorra's dress.

	"Oh, yes, love what is it?"  She looked down at the child.

	"Red next."  She handed up a red ribbon.

	"Ok, red next."  She finished off the braid and started on the next. 

	The stable door's opened and C'aranth came out with a horse all dressed in
the dragonrider tack.  She didn't see why they needed to put so much
leather on their horses to make them do what they wanted them to do.  But
that thought only hovered a moment.

	That was not his horse, and he was taking it.  She looked around
desperately for a nomad.  She could only see dragon folk.  And she couldn't
tell them, and stopping him while he had that lance would be foolish.

	She bit her lip in upset dissatisfaction as he rode out of the warren. 
The gate guards didn't even look up as he galloped out.  She stamped her
foot, which was when she realized she was standing.  Reine's daughter
looked up at her with her braid half done.

	"What is it Andorra?"  She looked at her, her face not concealing the
concern she wore. 

	"Nothing Benna."  She sat back down and looked at the braid.  "Your mother
will like your hair like this I am sure."

	"You think so?"  She held a ribbon up examining it, "How do they get the
gold in the ribbon Andorra?" 

	"Dragon magic I guess."  She finished the braid up.  Her mind pondering
over the problem, how was she to tell.  "Do you speak the dragon tongue
Benna?"

	"I speak some."  She picked up another ribbon and looked it over.  "Why do
you ask?"

	"You think you could tell someone what I say?"  She looked at the girl.

	"Yes, I think I could."  

	Andorra started to pick the things up.  "Then let us go, we have to find
someone now."

**********************************************************************

	The sound of water, it was a stream.  He slowly became aware of that. 
There was water.  It was like waking up really slowly.  Parts of him
realized he was real and decided to take note of what was going on again.

	He last remembered thinking of Renata, and her leaving.  Watching from his
window as she left the green, her beautiful dragon lifting off to fight. 
And he sat at the warren useless.  That is what he was thinking.  

	Now here he sat, a horse was watering next to him.  He knew if he tried to
remember what happened he would just weary himself, so he let it go.  It
would do no good anyway.  He checked himself for blood, and he had none on
him and no wounds.  It was better than finding a head at your feet like
last time.

 	The pains of hunger his him.  That is what usually brought him around he
figured.  He never ate while in his fits, but strangely enough he did back
food.  He checked the saddlebags and found a good five days worth of food,
ten if he cut back.  He dug into some flat bread and cheese, filling a
canteen full of water.

	The first thing would be to find where he was.  The night was coming on
fast, just how many nights had he been out.  The horse was well lathered,
so he had ridden hard.  He was famished, so it could have been a day at the
least.  But then he didn't eat breakfast the day Renata left.  

	He looked at the sky.  He was lost for sure; he was in the heart of the
Nomadlands.  Aside from the small cove of trees that grew here next to the
river, which he was sure was seasonal; the rest was dry tough grass.  He
would have to travel a good day to get to the mountains·

	The old man surprised him as he walked past.  He carried an old water skin
and a knurled branch in his other hand.  He nodded as he walked by, like
the fact that there was an outlander sitting by his stream was quite a
normal thing.

Darren Hunter
korzad@lgcy.com
------------------------------------------------------------------------
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