“Where is the other girl?”

The room was a dark and musty cellar, the kind that was infested with rats and other foul creatures. It was cold and the only light that penetrated the dark was a small window, but enough light shown through so that the outlines of faces could be seen. Nothing more.

The perfect setting for interrogation.

 In the middle of the prison sat a girl, her arms and legs had been strapped down to a chair. The only movement she was granted was that of her head, but it also remained motionless. The tired look in her eyes made her seem like she had been there for hours, which she probably had. Strangely her hair was the shade of a dark blue, and her clothes were that of a man’s hunting uniform. And a small trail of dried blood ran down her cheek from her forehead. If one was to look upon her, one would think her to be no more harmful than a small rabbit. Her captors didn’t appear to think so.

She was surrounded by five men dressed as palace guards. The leader circled her slowly, awaiting her answer. She continued to remain stationary with her head facing forward, her labored breathing being the only sign that she was alive at all.

In one swift move the leader knotted his hand in her hair and forced her head upwards so she would look in his eyes. A small gasp of pain erupted from her mouth, but she immediately closed it.

“I ask you again…” He began, but did not finish his sentence as the girl spat in his face. The other four men all burst into laughter at this, thinking the lady’s stubbornness to be quite amusing. But being laughed at was something the leader was rarely exposed to, and with one hateful look from him all of the men were silenced at once.

In a fury he let go of her hair and wiped his face.

“You’re a brave wench,” the man said in a surprisingly calm voice, crouching until he was eye level with her, “but your accomplice will be caught, with or without your say. And when that day comes you will truly regret not having spoken today, I guarantee it.” He grinned cruelly at her.

Then he turned to his men, “Take her back to her cell, tomorrow we shall go hunting.”

“Namian, where are you going?”

The young man turned from his preparations to find his mother, the princess Ella, standing in his bedroom doorway. A smile was on her face, though inquisitive.

“Going hunting mother.” He looked out of his window at the sun, which was just beginning to set, he wouldn’t have much time before dark came.

She crossed from the bedroom door over to him. Though he was a few inches taller than her, her very presence always seemed to command respect, yet somehow at times she managed to act as though she were still as young as he was. She picked up his bow and looked over his arrows and dagger.

“Hunting? Supper will be ready soon, Mandy….”

He cut her off, “Will have to accept my apologies. I just want some practice, that’s all.” Mandy, his family’s cook and fairy godmother, knew his thoughts and actions better than anyone. She surly would understand. Mother, on the other hand, was always more difficult to convince. He kissed her on the forehead, hoping she would let him leave. She shook her head and sighed.

“You grow too dependant on yourself, must you do this now?” she asked, though she started for the door. He could tell that she already knew the answer. He sighed and thought, Why does she make me feel as though I’ve done something wrong? He set about to finish his task, though more slowly now than before his mother had come, silently arguing with himself in his mind.

Namian liked having to depend upon himself, it helped him escape from all of the etiquette and manners that he hated so. He was, after all, the son of the world famous Prince Charmont and the Princess Eleanor of Kyrria, the largest country in the world.

At the last thought he chuckled. He knew they hated it being referred to by their full names, even he didn’t like it. Around good friends and the royal family they were known as simply Char and Ella, father and mother to him of course. Namian had heard many tales of their adventures when they were young, and by now he knew most of them by heart. He could recite them back to his parents as if he had been there himself, which gave them great entertainment. Mother’s curse and servitude. Father’s campaign against the ogres. Mother’s kidnapping which, he had been told, happened in his very own nursery when he was just an infant. These stories both excited and confused him, his parents had been on such great adventures and yet he had not seen one in all of his life. Sometimes he wondered if those stories were even true. So many people fawned and fussed over him and his family, he wondered how they even managed to go out by themselves at all.

Namian shook away those thoughts from his head and put his dagger in his boot. Now came the fun part of his trip, sneaking past the courtiers and the guards.

The courtiers in Namian’s opinion were mindless and only gossiped endlessly, they were easy to avoid. It was the guards that made his escapes difficult, or rather, the captain of the guards. Sir Russell. The foe of all who dared to leave the castle without his knowledge or consent. Namian had managed to evade him once or twice but Sir Russell would always track down the vanished prince, and Namian received his own escort home every time.

Namian decided that he would come home on his own this time. He looked out his window and below. Perfect, not a courtier or a guard in sight. He strolled back over to his bed where he lifted up the mattress and pulled out a long coil of rope. Tying the rope around a column next to his bed, he threw the rest down the castle wall and then swung his legs over the ledge. Reminding himself to thank his mother for not telling the guards of his plans, he wrapped his legs around the rope and quietly descended down the immense wall and on to the grass below. His was not far from the castle gates, so he had to be quiet. A fine hunter he would be if he couldn’t get even four feet away from home. He pulled the hood of his cape over his head and inched his way around the castle wall, if he could just get to the menagerie nearby………..

“Going out, highness?”

Namian spun around to find the tall dark shape of Sir Russell standing by a tree carving a piece of wood with his knife. The sun was nearly to the horizon now, and Namian was vexed. He’d never be able to leave!

“If you must know, yes.”

Sir Russell sighed and shook his head, mocking him no less. Namian despised that man, ever since his father had hired him three years ago. Sir Russell was as tall as Namian was and was strongly built. Despite his father reassurance Namian didn’t trust him at all.

“Even royalty must know their limits, you are not to be alone outside the palace walls,” said Sir Russell, motioning for him to walk back to the palace gates, “your supper’s ready.” Namian couldn’t see his face very well from the shade of the tree, but he could plainly make out a grin.

“I can take care of myself,” he said and started towards the Kyrrian forest nearby. But Sir Russell stopped him.

“If you leave I shall not be responsible if your father and mother should find out.”

Namian stifled a laugh at the pathetic threat, “Is that the best you can do? Go ahead and tell them, you must be bored and need a little distraction. I am more than happy to be of service.”

With that, Namian turned and left the infuriated captain of the guard by his tree. Hunting was going to be even more enjoyable tonight.

~*~*~

Outstretched branches and limbs from the trees smacked against her bare skin, leaving deep cuts in her arms and legs, but the lady ran on. She had torn off the bottom half of her dress so she could run faster, but with the stinging cuts in her legs she wished she had done differently. She came to a river and stopped to catch her breath, listening for any sounds. A faint barking could be heard in the distance.

“Hounds?” she said quietly to herself, rubbing her sore legs, “what am I? An animal?” Given her current situation, those who pursued her probably thought so. She waded into the river and fought against the current to the other side. Good, with hounds her scent would be harder to track through a river. Then, using a trick she had learned from the foxes who lived near her home, she wove through the trees and then leapt a few feet away from her path. They wouldn’t know which path to follow. Now she sprinted off in a completely different direction, as fast as her sore legs could carry her. The sounds of the hounds and the hooves of several horses were not far behind.

~*~*~

Namian couldn’t believe his good fortune. First he had managed to get past Sir Russell, whom he had thought would have dragged him back into the castle, and now a great deer stood before him. Just minutes after he had entered the forest. It nibbled quietly at the patches of grass that grew on the forest floor, unaware of Namian’s presence.

He crouched down low to the ground and prepared his bow, placing an arrow quietly on the handle and string. There was barely enough light from the sun to see anything now, but he kept his eyes on the moving shape of the buck. A fine trophy it would make, big enough for a king to be proud of. So to speak. Namian aimed.

Then the deer’s head shot up, so did Namian’s. It sounded as if there were footsteps in the distance, fast paced and loud. But all was silent now. The deer looked this way and that, trying to locate the source of the noise.

For a tense moment Namian remained motionless, hoping that the deer wouldn’t get spooked and run away. He could see the its tail standing straight up in warning. It sniffed at the air but then returned to its activities. Namian aimed again.

Without sound or warning, something large and soft collided into him at full force, knocking him over and sending both of them tumbling on the forest floor. Namian looked up just in time to see the back of the deer as it leaped off into the shadows.

He grabbed his dagger from his boot and stood up quickly, ready to fight off his attacker. But he nearly dropped his blade in surprise at what stood before him.

A girl.

Her hair was an unnatural dark red, and she wore a simple tattered dark green dress that only went down to her knees. By the look on her face he could tell that she had not expected him either. But a knife was ready in her hand also.

“Who are you?” He asked, lowering his hand. She kept her knife up.

“Uh….” she began, then turned at the sound of some dogs and horses that were headed in their direction. She quickly sheathed her knife and ran from him, jumping into some bushes to hide herself. By now Namian was very confused as to what was going on. He saw four palace guards approaching and quickly pulled on his hood, hoping they wouldn’t recognize him. A group of hounds were with them. They stopped when they saw them.

“You there,” the leader called, “have you seen a girl with red hair running through here?” Namian nodded his head somewhat reluctantly.

“Can you tell us which way she went.”

Not sure what to do, Namian stood there.

“Can you speak at all?”

What he did then he couldn’t explain. Looking quickly at where the girl was hiding, he pointed in a completely different direction. Without a word of thanks the four guards rushed off in the direction that he pointed with their hounds. And he looked over to see the girl walking off in another direction, but she wasn’t about to get away that easily.

“Wait!” Namian called to her back, “where are you going?”

Not turning around or even stopping, she called back rather sarcastically, “I’m late for an appointment.”

Namian followed her, “Are you not even going to tell me why they were after you?”

 “Nope.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s none of your business, that’s why.”

“Stop,” he said, grabbing her arm. She turned and yanked away, irritated now.

“I’ve just lied to four palace guards about you for no reason that I can explain and now you expect me to forget that all of this happened?”

“Exactly.” She began to walk again. Now aggravated himself, he walked alongside her.

“Can you at least tell me who you are?” He asked. If she was a bandit, perhaps his father would know of her.

 “No one of consequence.”

“Tell me.”

Clearly vexed with him now as if he were some bratty child, she stopped and glared at him.

“Look, whatever your name is….”

He quickly thought of the name of a friend of his, “John.”

She rolled her eyes, “Well, John, thank you very much for saving my hide, if gratitude is what you’re looking for. And seeing as how it’s probably past your bedtime I suggest you totter off home before you get wrapped up in this whole matter. And believe me, you want no part of it.” She turned on her heals and walked away again, this time at a much faster pace.

“And don’t follow me!” She called over her shoulder. Now Namian just stood there feeling brainless.

She clearly had a mind of her own, that was for certain, and by the look of her she was about the same age as he was, seventeen. What could he do? What if he had just let some murderous bandit go free? Some ruler he would turn out to be if he was responsible for this girl’s actions in the future. Namian frowned and made his decision, he would follow her. His family knew him well enough to know that he could take care of himself, they wouldn’t send a search party after him. Or so he hoped.

He could still see her back, though by now it was some distance away. Making sure not to step on leaves or anything else that could have made a noise, he followed her. The entire forest was dark by now, but he could still make out her red hair as plain as day, swinging behind her like a mane. She stopped several times and looked around, just as Namian hid behind a nearby tree. He wondered if she even knew where she was going.

Finally, after about an hour, she stopped to make camp. Gathering some twigs and leaves into a pile, she took her knife and struck it against a rock. Sparks flew onto the timber and it quickly caught fire. Namian watched nearby, fascinated. Being a prince, he had never seen something like that before. Quietly he sat against a tree in the darkness, just watching and waiting for her to go to sleep. Namian studied her. She appeared as any normal maiden should, except for the red hair. Perhaps with a sharper tongue than most lasses, but at first glance she was actually rather lovely.  What could she have possibly done to be hunted down like an animal?

~*~*~

The girl leaned up against the tree and held her hands out. The blazing fire was the only warmth that she had felt in a long time….not since she had last seen her sister Hannah. She wondered if her sister had managed escape before they could….Tears came but she forced them back down.

No, she thought, don’t do that now. You have to stay alert. Despite her best efforts her hands began to shake, and involuntarily she rubbed them together. What a mess she was in! Pulling out a hand-drawn map from her waist pouch, she tried to figure out where she was. If the town of Sheree was nearby, she could meet with her friend the next morning as planned.

Then to her surprise the boy she had encountered earlier that evening came into her mind. In the pit of her stomach she felt twangs of guilt for telling him off, even if it was her nature. He looked as any other hunter, even though he was hunting at a peculiar hour. He seemed as old as she was, probably seventeen or eighteen. With the hood of the cape on she couldn’t really tell, but she was quite sure that he had sandy blonde hair.

“Stop it!” she said to herself  out loud. Here she was being hunted down by the law with her sister thrown in jail and all she could think of was the color of some boy’s hair! “Quit being such a ninny and focus on what you’re doing. You’ll never see him again anyway.” And that was the last thing that she needed, getting even more people involved. Looking at the map again she studied the paths through the woods, tracing her finger over the last route she remembered taking, then contemplated how off course she had gotten.

Going through Frell had been a big mistake. Of course, she had no idea that anyone would recognize her. All she had been doing was buying some fruit for her trip, when the guards appeared out of nowhere. And she had even been careful to hide her red hair under the hood of her cape. It was really the only thing guards could have seen to identify her, it must have peeked out and someone spotted it.

“You there!” she remembered one of the guards yell.

Pretending not to notice, she had paid the seller for the fruit and started in the opposite direction of the voice. But there was already a guard blocking the way, and two more guards were now headed her way. The leader held in his hand a piece of parchment, with her picture drawn on it. Now there was only on thing left to do: run.

Sprinting through two of the horses before they could grab her, she remembered dropping her fruit somewhere and making a bee line for the forest, not bothering to look back. It was some time before she heard them pursuing her, they must have gone back to get the hounds. It took every trick she knew to throw them off her track, and yet they kept coming. It wasn’t until she ran into that boy…..

There it is! she thought as she found the path she had been looking for. She was only a mile or two off course but it wouldn’t take her long to get to the town of Sheree. If she left by dawn she could meet her friend in the inn as they had decided, then she would be able to find her sister and then everything would be okay.

Her legs were still aching from her run, but not enough to keep her awake. She lay down next to the fire and closed her eyes, only opening them every once in a while to make sure everything was as it should be. It was a while before she finally drifted asleep.

~*~*~

Namian yawned and fought to stay awake. The girl’s fire had died out now, and she lay asleep on the ground. Everywhere around him was total darkness, and he wondered if he should turn back. The almighty Sir Russell was probably looking for him by now.

Namian smirked in the dark at the thought, he wished he could see Russell’s face when he came back to his father with no prince. It would certainly be a first.

Father. Namian hoped that he would understand. There had to be something going on, because he had never seen any of the castle guards hunt down someone like that. Even thieves were caught in a completely different way, not chased as the girl had been. He wondered if his father knew of this perusal.

His eyelids felt very heavy now, as if there were weights on them. He breathed in deeply and forced his eyes open wide to stay awake, but failed miserably. Sleep had now claimed them both.

Namian awoke still sitting up with his back leaning against the tree, his bow gripped tightly in his hand. It was only an hour or so past dawn and the sunlight of the morning sun broke through the trees and lit the forest everywhere around him. A beam of light shone through up above him, warming his face. Nearby Namian could hear rustling and found a quirky squirrel rummaging through his food sack and pulling out several items for its own enjoyment.

“Hey!” Namian chuckled, “That’s my food. Go find your own!” At the sound of his voice the little squirrel scurried away, but not without dragging a nicely sized piece of bread with it up a nearby tree. Namian stretched his arms and legs and gathered the food back into his sack. Some of the food was a little dirty but still edible. It was only some dried meats, a loaf of bread, and some vegetables but they would be able to last him a few days. He checked to make sure his dagger and arrows were still in place.

Then he remembered the girl.

Mentally kicking himself for having spoken aloud and announcing his presence, Namian looked up to where the girl had been sleeping, but she was gone.

Idiot! He thought to himself as he got up to his feet. She was nowhere to be seen. Not only did he lose her, but he had no idea where he was. It might be hours before he could find something familiar to trace his way back home.

 He walked over to the small camp and saw an indent in the ground where she had been sleeping. The charred timber was still smoking though dirt had been thrown on top of it. He kicked some more dirt on it and then scanned the ground for any sign of footprints. He found some by the campfire and for the first time he noticed that she had been barefoot. They led north from the camp.

This is a bad idea, He could here his voice say in the back of his mind.

Turn back, don’t be a fool. She’s just a nobody. Your family’s probably looking for you. You could be killed on your own!

Namian shook his head and the echoing voice vanished. He couldn’t turn back now when he was so close to solving this mysterious riddle. Who knew, perhaps she was in trouble and just needed some help.

Leaving the camp he followed the footprints carefully, making sure not to lose track of them. At times they grew so faint that he could barely see them and had to double back, but he managed to stay with them. It wasn’t long before they disappeared altogether, and Namian stood at the last set of visible tracks.

“Great, now what am I going to do?” Namian wondered aloud as he glanced around looking for some sort of clue. The trees gave no indication that they were going to tell him the way, and he had no idea where he was. He noticed a small clearing to his right and walked toward it.

Then he saw it, a road! It was well hidden behind the trees and he had almost missed it. But it was clearly man-made. It was narrow but covered with horse hoof and shoe prints, signifying that there was a town nearby. The girl had probably gone there.  He made up his mind to find the town and decided that if he didn’t find the girl there then he would find an inn get a decent place to sleep.

 He followed alongside the little road and watched for any sign of civilization. Slowly the trees grew thinner until he finally make out some buildings appearing in the distance. Though it appeared quiet at first he quickly noticed a lot of activity in the center of the town, some kind of market. The people bustled around selling and buying, as if the whole town was in a big hurry. Children played noisily while adults chatted and argued just as loudly.

Hoping that no one would recognize him, Namian took off his cape and sauntered down to the town’s entrance. The town mainly consisted of one long road with two rows of shops on either side and several small houses on the outskirts. As he entered the village he noticed a small sign that read, “WELCOME TO THE TOWN OF SHEREE”. He had never before heard of this town, but he shrugged it off and continued down the main street. Everywhere people shouted out what they were selling and urged passersby to come and purchase them. Namian ignored them and scanned the crowd. Though there were plenty of women with red hair none of them had the unnatural dark red hair of the lady he was looking for. He stopped by a vegetable cart when the rather short vender tugged on his clothes.

“Ye’re new in town sir, on a journey perhaps?”

Feeling himself being pulled into a sales pitch, Namian replied, “Yes, that’s it. You hit it right on the head, must be going now…”

“If you be needing any vegetables, you’ve stumbled upon the finest bunch in the town.”

“No thank you,” he said as politely as he could, “I’m just looking for someone.” He looked away from the man to glance over the crowd again.

“Perhaps I can help.”

Namian looked back at the man, “How?”

The short vender smiled, revealing a missing front tooth, “I remember many faces that pass by my cart. If ye tell me what they look like, I tell you if I seem them.”

It would be easy to remember a lady with blood-red hair, ”She’s about an inch shorter than me, with red wavy hair down to her waist. Very red hair.”

“As red as my tomatoes?”

“Quite.”

“I seen her. She passed by my cart a little over an hour ago, walked into that inn right over there,” he pointed to a small inn with a sign hanging out front that read “The Iris Inn”.

Namian thanked the short man and turned towards the inn, until he heard a very exasperated “Ahem!” Then picked up a head of lettuce and gave the chap two gold KJ’s. As he walked towards the inn he could see the funny little man waving energetically.

He  was only a few feet away from the inn when he could plainly make out the lady’s wavy red hair. She was sitting at a table in the bar alone, but kept looking around as if she were waiting for someone. He decided not to go in just yet but watch and see what she would do. Positioning himself by an abandoned cart not far from the window, he waited.

~*~*~

“Bartender,” she called quietly, though it seemed useless not to draw attention to herself now. People from all over the room kept stealing long glances at her hair and her tattered clothes, no doubt she was quite a spectacle.

The fat bartender turned to the sound of her voice and smiled, “What can I get you milady?”

“An Ale please.”

“Right away.”

While he went about his task, she glanced around the room again. She felt so out in the open, but it would have been useless to hide her hair and clothes under her cape. As with the custom in Sheree it was considered rude to wear a cloak once you were inside a building.

With another cheerful smile the bartender set the ale on the table in front of her then turned to help some customers on the other side of the room. She sipped her ale slowly and glanced behind her every so often to check the door. He was late, but then again, he was always late. And he always had just the right excuse for every time, whether it was an appointment with another friend or a pretty girl came calling. She sighed with frustration, in the end she always forgave him, but no other meeting with him was as important as this was. She sipped her ale again.

The Inn’s calico cat rubbed against her leg and she reached down to stroke its furry back. It purred and licked her hand with its rough tongue before wandering off to be loved by the other customers. She found herself envying its lifestyle.

“Been here long?”

She turned to the voice and found herself staring up into the amiable face of her dear friend. He was a few years older than she, but not much taller. Oddly his dark hair was combed back from its usual loose and unkempt state. She stood up from her chair.

“It’s good to see you again Harloe,” she hugged him tightly.

He returned the embrace, “It’s good to see you whole. We’ve been worried sick about you.”

She released him, “We?”

“Your parents and I.”

“Oh. How are they?”

“Just fine, they said to tell you that they love you.”

“Oh,” she hadn’t seen her parents in over a year, not since she had left the tribe, “did you tell them I said so too?”

“I dunno, do you?”

“Of course I do!”

He grinned, “Then yes.” She laughed and playfully smacked him on the shoulder. He sat down at the table and motioned for her to do the same, which she did.

“Did you bring it?”

“What? I, your dear friend, have only been here for two minutes and already you want something from me?” He grinned again.

“Harloe! I asked you to keep it for me for a reason!” She instantly shut her mouth when she realized that her tone was a bit too loud. Some of the people looked up but then resumed their business.

He put a finger to his lips, “Alright, just keep it down. I have it right here.” Reaching in his shirt he pulled out a small envelope and handed it to her. She took it and looked it over, as if checking for any rips or snags. It appeared whole except the seal had been broken. She looked at Harloe and then back at the envelope. She remembered telling him specifically not to open it.

“Harloe? You read this?” Harloe couldn’t miss the anger in her voice.

He held up his hands defensively. “Yes I did,” she opened her mouth to reprimand him but he interrupted, “but you should know what you’re dealing with here. This could destroy…”

She snapped back, “I know perfectly well what it means! And I don’t care as long as it gets Hannah back, it’s the only way.”

“There has to be something else we can do,” said Harloe, now serious himself.

She shrank to a low whisper, “I can’t! If I try something sneaky they’ll kill her, even with all of my knowledge I can’t risk it.” Sticking the envelope in her waist purse she slumped back in her chair. Harloe did the same, now thinking. It was silent between them for a while.

Then he spoke up, finally noticing her shabby attire, “What happened to your dress?”

“Oh that? Ran into a little trouble, nothing terrible.”

“What, did you get mauled by a bear?” his sarcastic tone was back now.

“No, some castle guards chased me, that’s all.”

He sat up, “Wait a minute, how would they know of this? I thought only four or five men were involved.”

“They weren’t chasing me because of this,” she patted her waist purse which now held the envelope. She didn’t want to talk about it and get him even more involved, but she couldn’t stop him from questioning her.

“Then what were they chasing you for?”

She didn’t answer.

“Tell me! Why were they chasing you?”

“Oh, they….umm….think I killed somebody,” she chuckled nervously as if it were a joke.

“WHA…” Harloe almost yelled, then shrank to a stark whisper, “what!?”

She leaned forward and whispered, “Listen Harloe, they set me up. I was just returning to my room at the inn when I found a dead man on the floor, and to my convenience the innkeeper just happened to pass by.”

“Why would they do something like that?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly cooperate when they first wanted their property returned. It was a warning I suppose.”

He leaned back in his chair and whistled, “Some warning.”

“Really,” She agreed and leaned back in her chair also. The calico cat had returned but she didn’t feel like petting it now, and the animal soon lost interest in her and trotted over to the next table. She twirled a lock of her hair around her finger and  thought. She didn’t really feel secure here either.

“Harloe? Can we leave? I don’t like it here.”

“Sure thing, let’s go.”

~*~*~

Namian watched the two get up from their seats and head towards the door. Uh oh, he thought to himself.  They would surly spot him once they were outside. Looking around for a place to hide, he spotted an ally on the left of the inn and headed for it. It was dark and deserted, but there was no where else for him to go. Putting his back against the wall, he waited to hear the sound of a door opening and closing. But instead he found a blade at his throat.

“Here boy, gimmy your money,” a hoarse voice hissed. Namian looked over to an older man in his late fifties, hunched over with an eye patch across his right eye. Not a pleasant sight.

“I have no money,” he said calmly. If he could reach his dagger…..

“No money! What’ve ya got?”

Namian showed him his bag of food and vegetables. Now angry, the man’s blade pressed harder, any harder and it would break the skin. The man grabbed the sack of food and threw them into a muddy puddle nearby. Keeping his knife at Namian’s throat, he searched the rest of his person to see if he had anything hidden. Which he didn’t, and this made the man even angrier.

As the old thief raised his knife to deliver the blow, Namian knocked it out of his hand in a swift move, then grabbed his dagger from his right boot.

Though shocked, the thief recovered his fallen blade quickly and now stood in a fighting stance. But from looking at him Namian could tell the old man didn’t have much experience in the ways of combat. His thin hand shook visibly and Namian suspected that any longer and he would drop his knife.

He lowered his dagger to his side and spoke calmly, “As much as I’d love give you a proper lesson in how to use that thing, I don’t teach geriatrics.”

Without warning the old thief lunged at him with his knife, but Namian dodged the attack and the man ran into the wall behind him. He quickly recovered and started swiping at him vigorously but only managing to catch air. Namian backed further down the alley as the man continued to lash out at him. Never before had he seen an old man act so strangely. But this didn’t seem to stop him, and the old man lunged again. This time he managed to knick Namian’s arm before running into the opposite wall. If it had not been a serious situation Namian would have laughed at the man’s clumsiness.

Just then a small rock hit the old man’s head and he fell over backwards, stunned. Namian turned to see the silhouette of a man standing at the alleys entrance, walking towards them. Apparently he had been the one who had thrown the rock. At once Namian recognized him as the man who had been sitting with the girl at the inn.

“Get out of here,” the man threatened the old thief with another rock. The thief ineptly got to his feet and stumbled down the alleyway. Namian sighed. Of course he would listen to the man with the rock but not to the man with the dagger, he thought to himself.

“Thank you.”

“Your welcome,” the man replied, then he looked at Namian curiously, “what were you doing in a dark alley? Don’t you have any street sense?”

Uh…no, thought Namian. He didn’t reply. Just then he heard a female voice headed their way and cringed. This was not going the way he wanted it to.

“Harloe? What’s going on? Why…..” she stopped when she turned the corner and saw Namian.

“You! What are you doing here!?” Her temper seemed to match her hair perfectly.

“I…uhhh,” Namian searched his mind for a logical answer but none came.

“You followed me, didn’t you?”

Oh well, he thought,  nothing better than the truth.

“Uhhh…yeah.”

She didn’t seem to like that answer at all, “And what on earth possessed you to do a thing like that?”

Just then Harloe cut in, “You know this gentleman?”

“A nuisance is more like it.”

“Really?” said Harloe, he seemed more amused than anything else. He turned to Namian, “And what did you do earn that title?”

Namian’s stomach rumbled with hunger, “Perhaps if we had some food we could discuss this whole predicament.”

Harloe looked as though he was about to agree, but the girl pinched his arm.

“Ouch!”

She glared at Namian, “There’s no point in wasting good money on bad rubbish, let’s just leave!”

Harloe rubbed his arm and looked at her, “But Arleta…”

“I asked you not to call me by my first name, you pig.”

Harloe rolled his eyes with annoyance, “Excuse me my lady Teah.”

“Much better.”

Namian started at the sudden introduction of the girl’s name, “You’re name is Arleta?”

She looked back at him, still vexed, “Not you too.”

“We all call her Teah,” said Harloe. She pinched him once again.

“Ouch!”

Ah, the stubborn mule has a name! Namian grinned on the inside.

“My name’s Hayden,” he said, masking his name once again

Teah’s once angry face was replaced by a puzzled look, “I thought you told me your name was John.”

“I did?”

“Yes, I remember you saying it was John.”

“Oh,” he said slowly, trying to think fast, “Well…..I wasn’t about to give my name to a total stranger.”

She looked at him skeptically, then threw her arms up in the air and said rather sarcastically, “Right. Well, now that we’ve all gotten acquainted let’s find some food.”

A/N: Hope that was longer for your enjoyment. I can’t tell you how hard it was to write from Teah’s POV without giving away her name. BTW: Teah’s name is pronounced TAY-YAH, and her first name is pronounced AR-LEE-TAH. I wanted to spell it Tea (with an accent above the e like Tea Lioni), but you might have associated it with the drink. If any of you fellow readers would like educate me in putting an accent above letters, I’d be very grateful.

They entered the same tavern that they had been in earlier. The bartender seemed more than happy to have more customers, even if they were ones that he had waited on before. He greeted them with a jolly hello.

“What can a get for ya?”

Téa smiled politely, “Just bread and water please,” she shot a spiteful glance Namian’s way, but remained pleasant to the barkeeper, adding, “We won’t be here for very long.”

The plump barkeeper nodded with a smile and left them. Secretly Téa wished the world were full of more men like him, happy and stupid. It would make her life a little easier. Now she had to deal with some adventure-seeker with too much curiosity and not enough  common sense.  And to her annoyance Harloe liked him instantly!

“Where are you from?” He asked, sitting down at a nearby table. Hayden joined him, leaving Téa the only one left standing.  She sank into the last empty chair at the table.

“Frell,” Hayden replied. The cheery bartender set down a loaf of bread and three waters. Harloe began to slice the bread with his knife, handing one to each person. Téa chewed while she listened.

“Really?” Harloe replied, glancing over to her, “our country’s capital, imagine that. Is that where you met him Téa?”

“You might say I sort of ran into him.”

Namian grinned.  If Harloe hadn’t been there she probably would have kicked him under the table.

“Haven’t we all?” said Harloe, “Now what are we going to do with you Master Hayden?” He leaned back in his chair.

“Must you do something with me?”

“I’m afraid so,” said Harloe, “Téa has enough problems without running into curious onlookers.”

Téa hid a smile. Perhaps Harloe was on her side after all.

“However….”

Uh oh.

“….Téa may need some protection.”

“What?” Hayden and Téa spoke at the same time. They looked at each other and then stared at Harloe.

She spoke, “Harloe, you know very well I can take care of myself!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” said Harloe, turning his attention towards her,  “you are actually in real danger this time and I don’t think….”

“Excuse me,” Hayden held up his hand and got their attention, “before you two go any further I was wondering if it wouldn’t be too much trouble to tell me why she needs my protection.” Téa rested her elbow on the table and placed her head on her hand, why did Harloe always manage to do everything but help her?

Harloe looked at her, silently asking for permission. She sighed and waved her hand in the air.

“Oh, go ahead. If he is a spy he’s not a very good one.”

~*~*~

Namian leaned forward as Harloe lowered his voice, “Téa is being hunted by the law.”

“I can see that.”

Téa huffed, “Just shut up and listen!”

Harloe continued, “She was framed. An innkeeper found a man dead in her room. “ Harloe looked around to make sure no one was listening. This got Namian’s attention.

“Who was it?”

Téa whispered, “A local Noble. He had been stabbed to death.”

“Naturally they assumed that she had committed the crime and tried to detain her until they could find an officer. But she escaped and sent me a letter to meet here. Now all we have to do is find a way for her to…..”

Téa cut in, “…to get to my parents. They are a part of a tribe and that can keep me safe for a while until Harloe can clear my name,” She took another slice of bread and leaned back in her chair. Namian and Harloe did the same.

They were silent for awhile. Letting it sink in, Namian guessed. It did explain a lot of things, but then he had to remind himself to be cautious. They could have known who he was and this could easily be a setup to get rid of a royal, so he decided to test them.

“Have you gone to the royal family for help?” Namian asked,  “King Jerrold and Prince Charmont are very understanding in matters such as these. They could help catch the real criminals,” Both Harloe and Téa looked at each other.

“I’m afraid,” Harloe began, folding his hands in front of him on the table, “the King could not help us, regardless of his reputation for helping those in need.”

“And why not?”

Harloe appeared stuck, and he looked over to Téa for help. She was getting irritated again but seemed to offer no assistance. Namian smiled on the inside, he had caught them.

“Judging by your situation, there is no reason why the King wouldn’t be able to help you, “Namian leaned forward, “and what would you say if I said you were a couple of liars?”

That seemed to do it, Téa slammed her hands on the table and stood up.

“I would say I don’t give a stitch as to what you think!” Her eyes flashed with anger and she didn’t bother to lower her voice, “you don’t have any idea what’s going on and I think that I’ve made it very obvious that the only thing that I require is your absence!” She looked around at the stunned observers at the other tables then turned to Harloe.

“We’re leaving right now,” she looked at Namian, “Sir Hayden, thank you very much for this delightful waste of time! Have a nice life.” She stormed away from the table towards the door, but not before tossing a few KJ’s to the now dumbfounded barkeeper. She did not look back as she slammed the door behind her. Her long red hair swayed as she marched down the street and out of sight. Harloe sighed and looked at Namian.

“You just had to tip over her cauldron like that, didn’t you?”

Namian shrugged, “I was only being cautious.”

“Well,” said Harloe, “I can’t give you a mark for stupidity, but I will say that if you intended to help that was a most unwise move.” He stood and held out his hand. Namian held out his hand as well and Harloe shook it.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, have you decided to go home?”

“Not a chance.”

“Good, than follow me.” Harloe headed for the door and signaled for Namian to follow.

~*~*~

Téa leaned against the wall as she waited for Harloe. Great, She thought, they’re talking.  

She wasn’t normally so unpleasant towards people. Just him, she chuckled to herself. She despised people who called her a liar, it just got under her skin and made her want to tell them off, which she did usually. Hayden certainly got under her skin. He obviously thought she was a murderess, and even though she wasn’t now she actually considered it. Too bad she had left with such a bad impression, he reminded her of some of her old friends from the tribe.

The door to the inn opened, and she smiled at Harloe when she saw him but then frowned when she spotted Hayden following behind. She had calmed down but her anger hadn’t left completely.  

“I thought I told you….” she began, but Harloe held up his hand and cut her off.

“Hayden was only being careful. You would have said the same things, admit it.”

She kicked the wall and stood up straight, she hated it when he was right, “Perhaps, but what is he still doing here?”

“You still need some protection, Téa.”

“I told you I can take care of myself.”

“So you’re prepared to fight off five castle guards with that little knife?” He pointed to the dagger hanging from her belt. She didn’t reply, “Master Hayden’s bow and knife will come in handy.”

Téa looked past Harloe to Hayden, “Don’t you have a family, or something?”

“I do,” Hayden replied, “but I won’t be missed a great deal.”

“Can’t say I’m not surprised,” she said, then stopped herself, “very well, you can come. But if you prove to be any more of a nuisance than you already are, you can start walking home.” Hayden nodded. Harloe smiled with approval of his handiwork.

“Now,” he clasped his hands together and rubbed them, “let’s find you something suitable to wear, and you two can depart in an hour.”

~*~*~

Both Namian and Harloe waited in the tailors shop while Téa dressed in a separate room. The elf that ran the shop brought out her tattered dress and placed it on a shelf. He seemed to read Namian’s mind and smiled with pale green teeth.

“I’d like to keep it for myself. It will make a wonderful zeetenabas, a fire starter.” Harloe chuckled and so did Namian. The elf’s attention left them and turned it to some customers entering the shop.

“I thank you for your assistance,” said Harloe, not bothering to look at him, “she will too, eventually. She’s just too stubborn to admit it at the moment.”

“I can see the trip won’t be dull,” remarked Namian, secretly he wondered what he was getting himself into. Harloe laughed.

“Being around her is never boring, she’s been this way ever since we were young. Defensive with a sharp tongue.”

“Any reason why?”

“When she was a child she was very protective of her younger sister Hannah, who was smaller than the other children her age. Arleta made sure Hannah was included in every game, and eventually Hannah made enough friends that she didn’t need Arleta to take care of her anymore. So now she just takes care of herself.”

“Téa,” Namian corrected, “why is her first name such a bother?”

“Who knows, I don’t think anything’s wrong with it but she does. Just don’t push her about it and you’ll be fine.”

Namian recalled the tribe that Harloe had mentioned and asked him about it.

“The Tribe of Emen,” he told Namian, “her hair does appear strange, doesn’t it? Well, if you ever visited the tribe you would be considered the strange one. Every member of the tribe has their hair dyed blue or red as a tradition. My family was part of a band of nomads and we traveled with the tribe for a while, that’s how I met her.”

Namian was about to ask why Téa had left the tribe in the first place when she emerged from her dressing room. She wore a dark green tunic with a belt at the waist. Long boots up to her knees and a cape completed the outfit.

“Much better,” said Harloe, “we ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, she fingered her hair which had now been braided. She walked over to Harloe and hugged him, “let my parents know that we’re on our way.” She released him and looked at Namian.