[Bêthberry]

Her thin limbs and small joints aching from the constant pounding of a day-long ride, Catrina wearily petted the chestnut gelding after hobbling it. Then she took out the battered cooking utensils which Deriath had provided them with--at a cost, of course. The copper cooking pot was stained with burnt charcoal; the wooden plates were rough and developing cracks. She and Kiatus would again be eating dry-cured salt beef boiled in barley seeds with some marjoram. Maybe, if they were lucky, she could find in the brambled undergrowth some root vegetables to throw into the pot.

How she longed for some soft bread, greens from the garden, and even the rich sweet velvet of milk trickling down her throat. Or for a bath to wash her salty sweat from her itchy skin and wipe away the dust of days on the road. And for a kind word from Kiatus, like he used to be, full of endearing names for her and exotic trinkets of perfume or combs or lace. She had not been able to find the small green handkerchief of the softest silk he had given her the night before her family was attacked. It had become an emblem of her lost world, the gentle, secure life on the homestead she had once known, and every night, secretly, she would pack and unpack the canvas and leather bags in a pitiful, desperate search for it, her chest torn with dry, panicking, silent sobs for love and comfort lost.

A snap of twig and the sudden snort of her horse brought her back to the small tree-lined hollow Kiatus had chosen for their camp that night. Two shadowy figures were approaching her, men on foot, wearing no cloaks but with leather jerkins and breeches. She stepped back and then remembered their faces, now lined by the dust of the road.

They had been at the Green Glen Inn, on the outskirts of Firien Wood where she and Kiatus had stopped for a day's rest after the fast hard ride across the plains from Cambere to the Great West Road. She had warmed to them, enticed by their stories of trade on the road now that the King had returned. She had been drawn into their questions and had begun to tell of their purpose on the road when Kiatus suddenly, rudely and harshly, had grabbed her arm and pulled her back to their room where he berated her miserably for her indiscretion. And she had tartly retaliated by calling him jealous, sneering at him and threatening to return to the Common Room. And he had silenced her with a slap across her face which sent her flying across the room. She could still feel the heat of the stinging flesh now and a pain from the twisted muscles in her neck.

"Hello Miss. You disappeared quickly at the Inn. But we meet again."

The man's voice was not as friendly now. Catrina eyed him warily and made a slow nod.

"We've come to have a look at the merchandise you are carrying. Maybe we can help you carry it. Take some of the work off your pretty shoulders so you can rest."

"I carry nothing but food and a few clothes for my back. I am not a trader. I am a homesteader looking for family friends in the White City."

The men moved closer towards her. Catrina stood her place, but began to feel fear in her knees.

"Sure, hon, and I'm King Aragorn in disguise as a ranger. We hear stories about people chasing a man and a young girl, groups of people. People who are desperate to catch them. Now, what would make someone desperate to catch up with a quiet sort of couple? A couple who maybe doesn't look as happy as they let on. A couple who's a bit too quiet and silent. Let's see what you have to bargain with these family friends in the White City. Show us before we take it, and we?ll be nice to you."

One of the men, the one who had not been talking, took a step forward, but before he could reach the girl he was felled. A rock flew through the air, hitting him on his right temple, bloodying his face. He crumpled to the ground without a sound. The second man, his words hanging in the air, took a step forward to Catrina, but she ducked behind her horse and threw her sacks of food and utensils at his feet, where he stumbled over them. Before he could rise, Kiatus appeared, the longsword drawn from his saddle scabbard and leveled at the man's throat.

"We don't take business partners because we aren't in business. We're traveling to family. Alone. Just the two of us."

The tip of the sword pressed against the man's throat. Kiatus' eyes were narrowed, his brows and straggly hair hanging over them, creating shadows which masked his face and gave him the sense of an unknown menace. He brought forward his left arm, holding a knife, and called to Catrina.

"Get out the leather thongs. Wet them, and then tie them tightly around his wrists, behind his back."

Catrina froze.

"Hurry up, you stupid girl. Or you'll join him"

Stumbling as her left knee gave way, Catrina finally did as she was bid. Soon, the bandit was trussed and tied, dragged to a tree, and tied to it. Kiatus looked at him, swore vengeance if the man ever threatened him again, and then knocked him unconscious. Turning to Catrina, he sneered.

"See what your stupid loose talk has got us? Who knows if they have companions. Come, we must ride on tonight, putting as much distance as we can between us.?"

"I am tired. I am hungry. I ache. I can't ride like this, day and night, all the time."

"You've no choice. You know our business. You do my bidding or I won't answer for what I will have to do."

Catrina stared at him in shock, dismay, despair, fear. In the dusk of the setting sun, she could not see his face, just an outline of his figure. He was no longer the man she had once flirted with, but a stranger, cruel and relentless, heartless and demanding. Yet she didn't cry. She couldn't. She had no more tears left to shed.