Rains stretched across the Great Sea, drenching the southern coast of my lands. The war against Lord Gemini’s mercenary armies have dwindled, and travelers from the west have begun their trek from the mountains, across the valley toward the Imperium, stopping in our villages for rest and warm meals. Merchants from the north have their wool, their timber, and their autumn harvest to our ports to trade with the packets, their colorful silk, their peppered spices and their peetish coffee. Our rangers still ride the borders in heavy patrol, but their spirits have lightened enough to trade laughter and jokes of matters other than death and battle.

My second daughter, Stella, Steward of my lands, sits at her desca in the study off the Great Hall. Since my death, she reluctantly moved her family into the Steward Estate. Her transition was not easy, and while most of the elders offer her their support, there were two, Jessine and Abrile, who kept silent. They were the main dissenters of offering our lands in the northeast to our neighbors Lady Glendora and Judgment in the hopes that the people their would remain secure from harm.

“Due respect, Steward, those lands hold the a third of our vineyards,” Jessine had protested. “Our trade decreases significantly with their loss.” A murmur had permeated the Elder’s council.

“Our enemies win when they see us relinquish our riches, our source for commerce,” Abrile echoed.

Ghita, lead of the elders spoke up, “If we cannot adequately protect them all of our people, many will surely perish under the treat of mercenaries. We risk too much for the sake of open trade.”

Jessine looked to Stella. “Your father dedicated his live to the prosperity of his people.”

Stella had looked around the table to each of the elders and thought for a moment. “My father put the safety of his lands above all endeavors first, as would I.”

For the first time consensus had not been reached among the elders, and Stella had been obligated to settle for a recommendation for the majority. After recalling the proceedings of the council for a time, She finally stood up and stretched her body from sitting for too long. Her neck cracked, and walked to the fireplace warm herself as she gazed into the burning embers.  She felt a nudge at her feet, and she looked down to see a waddling puppy sniffing her leather slippers.

“Hello,” she said and knelt down to pet the youth. “Are you lost?” The puppy looked up and began to sniff her hand, then jumped to lick her face with new delight.

“She’s in need of a home.”

Stella turned around to see Ghita standing at the doorway to the study. “I thought you might want the company,” she said joining her at the fire.

“A puppy?” Stella asked.

“A shepherd,” Ghita said, “mine just had babes, and this one seemed to have an old soul about him.”

“I’m not sure my husband would appreciate another mouth to feed.”

Ghita smiled, “You’d be surprised how much food this young one can find among the staff at the estate. Besides, you’re father always said, Trace was the only one who trusted his instincts. I suspect you could use that right now.”

Stella looked at Ghita, “Last week, I sent Delfia to search for Lord Gemini. I don’t trust the loss of his whereabouts.”

Ghita stared into the fire for a moment. “How have our defenses holding?”

“The attacks have waned, but I’m in doubt whether this is the calm before the storm.”

Ghita was quiet, her concern showing more than usual. “Is she in danger?”

“She can take care of herself. In any case, I must know our enemy’s intentions, and even rumors are scarce.”

“It is a good move,” she said finally.

Stella sighed, then looked to the pup, lying on his back grateful for his bellyrub. “Well, sir,” she said, “what shall we call you?”

As if on cue, the pup rolled to his feet, and gave pitched bark and happily panted.

“Perhaps, you deserve my father’s nickname.”

Ghita laughed, “Wouldn’t that be appropriate.”

“Indeed,” Stella smiled. “Then it’s settled. It’s time for our first meal together. Come along, Brave.”

—

The rain was relentless. Delfia rode atop her horse, Kaynequus on the path heading into dusk. She was dressed in light leather armor and traveling clothes, shrouded in a warm hooded cape. She was on the other side of the Great Sea, and she had been traveling from village to village, taking her meals in the taverns, and striking up conversations with others for information on the whereabouts of Lord Gemini.

“Lord Gemini,” last night’s barkeep had remarked, scratching is chin. “He’s a slippery one, that one is. I wouldn’t say his reign was bright in these parts, but it was good for business.”

He handed Delfia a tankard of ale across the bar, then pointed behind her, “If you’re looking for Gemini, perhaps, she’s the one you’ll want to ask.”

Delfia, turned to see a woman walk through the front door of the tavern, catching her eye as well. The woman’s eyebrows arched with knowing surprise, then a smile appeared, with a hint of cleverness or mockery, Delfia couldn’t tell. It was Renata. She wore easy traveling clothes with leather riding gauntlets and boots, and she carried a long sheath long dagger at her side.

“Grabel,” she called to the barkeep, “You see before you a parched woman.”

She took the pot from him as she stood next to Delfia and held it to her. “You’re a long way from home, Captain.”

Delfia returned the toast, “and you’re a long way from the sea, Rogue.”

“I’ve moved on from those pirates. There’s only so much entertainment begotten from boys on on boats.”

“Those boys put up quite a fight,” Delfia said recalling the mercenary sieges on her lands’ ports. “I don’t recall seeing you with them.”

Renata smiled. “Perhaps it’s better that you didn’t. I’m not sure you’d be standing—with me to share a pot of ale.”

“Nor am I, of you,” Delfia said.

“We may never know.”

Delfia glanced up from her ale. “It appears Lord Gemini has disappeared.”

Renata looked around the tavern, “You’re not subtle, that’s for sure. It seems my circle of friends have known about you since you set foot on this side of the sea.”

“I have no fear of your friends,” Delfia said.

Renata laughed. “Nor they, of you, but it’s no surprise that you’ve come this far without any knowledge of Gemini.”

Delfia looked at her, “What do you know of him?”

“What does it matter? Gemini’s followers have disbanded. His army is no longer a threat. He hardly holds court those other than his own faces.”

“Threats like Gemini do not go away easily. We must know.”

“Indeed, whether or not you see him, he is here.”

“Am I to be frightened by the riddle?”

Renata replied, “Some think that they can set a foot in hell and draw their swords to parry and thrust to vanquish their boredom. They think they can dance the role of mischief maker and stop before the leather of their boots are too warm from the heat.

“But Evil does not approach from a distance with fanfare. It is subtle, clever and quiet. It’s in the wine it offers for drink, and in the pig it offers for food. It lightens your head with flattery and warms your belly with pride. Dine with the devil enough times, and you’ll realize, too late the smoke you’re choking on is from the fire that’s burning away your heart, till your chest is burnt hollow. Some have the sense to desert hell for whatever redemption is left for them. Others have lost themselves completely to wander the world without course or conscience, but still wielding a powerful, reckless axe.”

Renata finished her cup and beckoned for another pot. Delfia reflected on her words, then said, “Gemini has no army, you say.”

“There’s a reason he largely hired mercenaries to fight his war. The sight of coin can hide the true nature of a man’s heartless soul.”

Grabel handed a drink to Renata who toasted him and drank.

“Then I must find Gemini now,” Delfia said, and Renata spit out a mouthful of beer Grabel’s face, surprised and resentful.

“It may be his most vulnerable moment,” Delfia continued, “Where can I find him?”

“My apologies, Grabel,” Renata said, “I’ve been drinking with a witless, foolish woman.”

She turned to Delfia, “Go home, Captain. Go protect your father’s lands. Go finally bed that loyal lieutenant of yours, and perhaps raise little Delfia’s to fight the likes of me.”

She saw Delfia’s face become vacant, her eyes darken to cold black marble stones. “My father is dead, Rogue. Beyle is dead, too.”

Renata stared back at her for a while, and the air between them weighed heavy. “There is a rumor,” she said finally, “that Lord Gemini has retreated to a cavern stronghold in the southern mountain range, beyond the grey forest and the scrub tree foothills.”

“Thank you,” Delfia said, her friendly disposition returning.

“You ride alone, Captain,” Renata said. “What is it that you think you will do? Walk up to him introduce yourself and poke him with your sword?”

Delfia finished her pot. “Something like that. I best turn in, if I want an early start. Farewell, Renata.”

“To you as well, Delfia.” Then she leaned in with the slightest nod of her head toward a table in the darkened corner of the tavern. “You do realize that you’ve gained a shadow.”

“Two, in fact.” Delfia replied. Renata looked beyond her to see another quiet form, seated by the fire, smoking on a pipe.

“It’s a pity they don’t ask you to dance,” she said with a smile.

“Soon enough, I’m sure,” Delfia said, and turned to leave.

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