“It would be the best for her, what other plans have you considered for her future?” I asked, one hand lightly on the little girl's shoulder.

The child couldn't have been more than six, her flaxen hair unruly and knotted with various bits of plant matter from playing in the field. Her bright blue eyes looked up to me in wonder, though she was young, she could sense the magic flowing through me despite my attempts to contain it.

I had sensed her innate magical ability all the way from the road and left my horse to find her on foot through the nearly head height golden grain. Expecting someone a bit older, perhaps training to be a seer or a village witch, I was taken aback to find her to be a wide-eyed little girl, barely tall enough to come up to my knees. For someone so young, it was not usual to have such a dense, though wild, magical aura.

“Well ye see... we haven' thought anythin' about her future. She's just a wee tot,” The father blathered.

The woman I assumed with her mother watched us from the fireplace, hand clutched to her chest in an expression of anxiety. Unlike some of the other parents I had come across thus far, she seemed to actually be attached to her female child.

“Then perhaps I offer you the best option,” I said, motioning to the mother. “What do you say? Tell me what you're thinking.

“I...” she began, but then stopped, swallowing nervously. “Excuse me miss, but might ya be from some sort o' noble house?”

“Yes, you're a bright one to put the pieces together. I am a noble woman and therefore I am offering your daughter a place in a noble house.”

“Ah she don' need any o' tha fancy life.”

I could smell the man's musky, fetid body odor though there were several feet between us. The layer of dirt caked around his neck and under his fingernails displayed his distaste for hygiene. The fact that his wife showed the very beginning rounding of her abdomen made my stomach roil over the thought that anyone, even the lowest of women, would allow such a creature to touch her.

“No, ya don' understan',” the woman cried, reaching out to her husband, “Alice has nothin' ta look forward to 'ere!”

“Whatchu mean? She can get a man and 'ave a family!”

Typical, the man had no idea what being a woman meant while living in the utter squalor around them. It would be more likely she would die in agony birthing her first child than living to see her sixteenth birthday.

“Your wife is an intelligent woman,” I said. “Your daughter could have much more to look forward to than a rickety hovel and a man willing to take the smallest dowry.”

The girl shivered beneath my touch as I spoke. Even though she was young, she already knew and feared the current path of her life.

“Please, let 'er go!” The woman cried. Tears welled up, then spilled down her face, creating streaks down her filthy skin. “Please take her noble woman, I give my blessin'.”

My gaze switched to the man, who stubbornly returned my look, but shifted his stance to be less on guard.

“Jus' tell me if she'll be okay,” he grumbled.

“I assure you, she will achieve a better life than she could have ever here. There is wealth and power waiting for her if you will just let her come with me.”

A few minutes later, the girl and I were on our way, the little bag that contained all of her worldly possessions bounced on her lap as she rode in front of me. I had been tempted to chastise the girl for daring to bring anything, but I had relented under her innocent gaze, perhaps I was going soft in my elder years, surely the whimpering of a mere babe would have not swayed me a mere few months before.

“Where are we goin'?” The tiny child turned her head to look at me, a tinge of fear present in her eyes.

“First we are going to visit other families and find more little girls like yourself,” I explained.

I saw no beneficial reason for obfuscating what was going on. The less afraid or apprehensive the new recruits were, the more compliant they would be. Their compliance would be key later when I would have to orchestrate the march that was inevitable. I could perhaps fit another child or two on the horse with me, but it would not be long before I would have to encourage them to keep up and stay together like the soldiers they would hopefully become.

“Oh,” the girl said flatly. There was something in her response that divulged that she was quite certain that there was much more to my appearance in her life. “What about after tha'?”

I appreciated the girls insight and unwillingness to accept my incomplete answer. Perhaps with her raw magical talent and a decent intellect, she would do well in the training to come.

“After we have gathered everyone, we will travel to my home. It is a grand castle where the house Yser lies, a noble family commanding power beyond your imagination.”

“Then what will become of me?” The girl clutched her bag tighter to her chest, a wave of uneasiness washing over her youthful features.

“You worry too much, child,” I said, trying to inspire calm with a soothing voice. “If I wanted anything ill to do with you, I would have done it already and been able to ride much more comfortably without having to make space for you. Your future may have challenges, but I can assure you that if you accept your path, you will find power and control much grander than ever awaited you on that decrepit farm.”

My answer seemed to satisfy her, though she did not take her hands from her possessions as if I she thought I would snatch them from her at any moment.

We did not encounter another suitable girl before the sun began to set. We had passed through many fields and observed dozens of children toiling their childhood away, but the vast majority were male or simply were so untalented that decades could be devoted to them without them becoming powerful enough to command even a single word of power. In comparison, Rela would have been considered extremely talented when put up against the weak, tepid auras most commoners emitted.

I pulled the horse to a stop outside of a relatively clean looking hovel, the sounds of a cleaver chopping through flesh and bone echoed from beneath the crooked front door. Pulling the child down from my mare, I straightened myself to a noble posture and called out a “hello.”

The dilapidated door squeaked out a complaint as it opened, revealing a harried middle-aged woman with graying hair pulled up into a bun wearing a bloodied apron. Her eyes went wide as she realized a noble guest stood in her doorway.

“I-I'm sorry miss,” she bowed slightly, “I did not expect someone like you to show up in my doorway.”

She spoke decently well for a random commoner. It was like a warm tonic for my weary ears after having been so thoroughly abused by the slurred, stilted accent that seemed to be prevalent by those born on the lowest rung of society.

“I am far from home and the nearest inn is too far for me to reach before nightfall. I would like a place for myself and my young ward to rest for the night.”

It would not be the most comfortable or clean accommodations, but it would certainly be more so than setting up a camp. In the past, I would have avoided staying with lessers out of a sense of dignity, but I was growing far too old to be sleeping upon the hard ground in the elements. Perhaps when the roster of my recruits were at sufficient numbers, I could have them prepare a bed and tend a fire, but until then, I would have to accept unsatisfactory sleeping arrangements.

“Of course,” the woman said, wiping her bloodied hands on her apron, “but I'm afraid I don't have anything as fancy as you're likely used to.”

“Without a doubt,” I said, ushering the young girl in front of me, “but sacrifices must be made in our journey.”

The woman stepped out of the way, motioning for us to enter her smoke-stained kitchen. The table that appeared to serve as both her work surface and the dining table currently held a boar, it's belly slit open and offal having been transferred to a large wooden bucket on the ground. My nostrils wrinkled at the earthy, putrid smell of blood and visceral mater permeating the air, it was the stench that clung to the lowest of servants who spend their days dejectedly preparing all manner of beasts for feasts they would never be welcomed to.

Inside the hovel, there was not much for furniture beyond the well-worn table the beast laid splayed upon. Dirt around the table and in the corners of the room had been packed smooth by feet or bodies compacting each time they rested. Through a ragged curtain there was a tiny offshoot of a room where the floor was covered with hay for a slightly more comfortable slumber. This would perhaps be the worst dwelling I had ever had the displeasure of finding myself in. It would have to do, but it would likely take weeks to feel clean again.

“You have picked an interesting time to stop by.” The woman had resumed her work, hacking at the beast and spraying her filthy apron with even more blood and tissue. “We have just harvested our biggest sow,” she said and pointed at the carcass with the tip of her knife, “been a long time since we had much more than potatoes and porridge.”

“Is it a special occasion?” I inquired. I would nto normally indulge someone such as her to continue their blathering, but it was a bit refreshing to hear someone speak without the ridiculous local accent.

“Oh yes, ma'am!” she enthusiastically replied. “The King is betrothed once again!”

My left eyebrow raised in intrigue. I could only assume that Rela had finally lost her battle with the magic that raged inside of her. It was a fitting end for a traitor.

“And she's so young and beautiful.” The woman seemed to have been just waiting for someone to bring up the subject. “Some say she's too young, but she's not too young to be able to bear the King a child, so I think people just like to talk and gossip.”

“How young is the girl?” I was quite certain that I wasn't ready for the answer.

“I think someone said the other day that she's fourteen or so summers, though rumors put her at most thirteen. No matter really, her father had consented.”

A fourteen year-old girl forced to share a bed with a man over six decades her senior... the idea utterly disgusted me. The poor girl had to be absolutely clueless as to what she was about to be sold into. There had to be some enticing trade to be willing to give up a daughter so young, especially under the judging eyes of the church. I typically would stay out of the affairs of other kingdoms, but there was something about the age difference that did not set right with me. Had the girl been at least eighteen, I would be certain that she had some idea of what she was getting herself in to, but fourteen makes her still a child. It was too much an example of the terrible things that befall women at the hands of men.

“Do you know if the girl is already at the castle?” I asked.

“Of course not, not before they're married. “The woman seemed shocked that I would even think that. “That would be improper. She is to arrive tomorrow and they will be wed two days from now.”

“I see, well, then it seems that I should go make an attempt to congratulate her on the upcoming nuptials.” I placed a hand on the shoulder of my young ward and turned her towards the door. I could feel the girl slump in disappointment, she was not used to riding, especially for so long, but if she was to become one of us, she would need to learn to suffer through difficult trials.

“Oh! You can visit her?” The woman's eyes sparkled with wonder, looking over me like she was just now seeing my royal aesthetic. “Could you take her a present? I know I'm just some peasant and she shouldn't really care, but I want her to feel welcomed to our kingdom.”

Before I could clear my throat to inform the woman that I wasn't just some carrier running across the countryside, she had wiped her gore covered hands on her apron and begun to rummage through a sun-faded sack by the front door. She proudly held before her a small, tattered doll, it's eyes barely holding on by the thin remaining threads. The doll was also nearly bald from years of being clutched tightly by a young girl.

“It was mine,” she explained, her eyes begging me to take it. “It meant so much to me and I know she's still so young, maybe it will provide her some comfort.”

I took the doll, though not because I planned on the promised Queen getting any comfort from it, but because it might give me an interesting edge when I talked to the girl. Still, the grubby woman's eyes lit up and she clapped her disgusting, stained hands together in glee. Wishing to hear no more of her excited blabbering, I pushed my young ward out the door and began to ready my tired steed.

“Thank you!” the woman called out the window.

I made no effort to acknowledge that I had heard her in any way.