Perenenda’s company, along with Captain Dao and her group of armed soldiers, moved up toward the foothills. Since Dao was the most familiar with the land, she led the way, followed by Perenenda and those that departed with her from the Hovels, who tended to the laden wagon. Big and Little Tim stayed by her side, while Kamfongil’s Butchers kept the rear.

They had only a handful of horses, and with the wagon and animals now in tow, they moved slower than they had been. They wrapped themselves in thick traveling cloaks to protect themselves from the wind and dust, and moved in a single line, pulling along three sheep and a goat from Helembasil's farmstead. Dao pointed to the area where the Pyderi had been spotted. They snaked their way through the northern hills, avoiding soft spots of mud or rock that would wonder the wagon. They did not find any signs of Pyderi, and they continued looking until dark. They made camp by a small stream and shared roast mutton and Helembasil's wine until they started sharing stories, the wine making them louder as the night progressed until they were singing and passed out from the drink.

The next day they snaked their way deeper into the foothills until the passage became too steep as they neared a peak called the Sunpoint of the Southern Marches. They found remnants of a camp, likely struck by Pyderi, and followed the trail. They found no Pyderi, and made their way toward the border of Helem territory and nearing neighboring Xaykan territory. That night they made camp beside a grove of trees that shielded them from the wind. They roasted the goat with a thick coating of salt and herbs and drank the wine. They laughed and sang into the night again until the drink took over and they fell asleep.

As they slept beneath the stars, the fire’s crackling slowed and the fire began to wane. Embers drifted upwards as the still of the night, blanketing the sleeping army. The horses slept through the men's snores and heavy breathing.

Figures from the darkness crept toward the edge of the fire light. Crouching with daggers and spears they crept closer, their footsteps as silent as the stars. Twenty, then thirty, then fifty figures from the shadow approached the slumbering camp. One of the figures held his open hand up. The other figures halted and waited for further command. He closed his hand into a fist and the others raised their weapons, waiting for the final signal. The fist turned into a single finger pointed upwards, readying to point down for the assault.

Then another signal was given, this time from the camp. A short horn blast came from the center of the camp and several crossbowmen rose from the blankets and fired at the encroaching figures. Dao jumped up and shouted. Her Rootless soldiers, dressed down to their tunics and trousers, leapt from their blankets and lunged toward the ambushers.

Kamfongil’s Butchers ran out from the grove of trees, their swords in hand. The Pyderi, already reeling from the surprise, spun at the sight of the sprinting soldiers in armor. Steel clashed in the night beneath a crescent moon.

Big Tim stayed near Perenenda by the fire, to guard against any who may slip past Dao’s soldiers. One did, wearing a fur across his torso and a dagger in his hand. He ducked and rolled past a spear and came near the fire. He saw Little Tim and grabbed him by the collar.

Big Tim jumped over the fire, took a large stride and jumped again, kicking the man on the elbow. The man let go of Little Tim, but with his other hand jabbed his dagger at Big Tim. Big Tim closed the distance between them and intercepted the strike by lunging his body at the assailant’s arm. Big Tim grabbed him by his wrist and threw him over his shoulder and landed him on the ground. With a twist of the man’s wrist, Big Tim wrestled the dagger free. He threw the dagger at a nearby tree, sticking it against the bark. The man scrambled up but ran away from the fire.

The Pyderi all scrambled and they began to flee the camp. The Butchers were on their horses now, circling the camp. The hooves stirred up dust in the night as Kamfongil's horsemen prevented the Pyderi from escaping. When they realized that they had been the one who had been ambushed, the Pyderi knelt in surrender.

Kamfongil dismounted and unsheathed his cutlass. He walked up to one of a kneeling Pyderi woman and put his blade against her neck. He turned to Perenenda.

“Princess, do you want your point proven?” he asked, pressing his blade when the woman flinched. “We can slaughter every one of them tonight. Your uncle need never worry about them again.”

Perenenda looked around the campsite. Several were slain, and more injured. The woman’s eyes showed no fear as the light of the campfire in her eyes danced brightly, but was dull in comparison to the defiance in her eyes. Perenenda wanted to be sure her people were all safe. Little Tim’s eyes had fear enough for them all, as he fixed his gaze on the blade against the woman’s neck.

“No…no point will be proven tonight,” Perenenda said. “We will take them to Lord Helem, and his court shall decide their fate.”

"They don't deserve a day in court," Dao said. She walked up to another kneeling Pyderi and pulled the colored scarf from his face. He was thin and wrinkled with brass rings fastened to his scraggly beard. The lips of his large mouth were dry as he smiled at her and revealed a couple of gold teeth. She struck him in the ear and knocked him down and continued striking him in the face.

"Captain Dao," Perenenda called to her.

Big Tim grabbed Dao by the shoulders and pulled her away. Spittle ran down her lips, her grunts were heavy with fury.

“Bind them, then put them by the trees,” Big Tim said. “They’ve surrendered, we need not do any further harm.”

The fire was rekindled and a large flame was stoked. Over thirty Pyderi were bound by their hands and feet. The wounded were being tended to by Big Tim.

“You have a hard fist when you strike, and a soft hand when you heal," Kamfongil said. "You are full of surprises, foreigner."

"Skills I acquired while on my travels," Big Tim said, stitching an arrow wound to a Pyderi's leg. "It will be difficult to bring this group back to the lord Helembasil. We’ll need your horses to take them back.”

Kamfongil spat and walked away. Big Tim returned to the fire, where Perenenda sat on a log.

“Today is Sol's Day, isn't it?” she asked.

"I think it is," Big Tim said, sitting beside her. “We have wine for the festivities. We haven’t touched a drop of it. Should the men actually be allowed to drink the wine this time?"

"No, I don't want their senses dulled," she said. “It was a clever ruse, to let the Pyderi think we were in drunken stupor for the past two nights. Laughing, singing, acting like fools. Your plan worked.”

“I know it works because it was done to me once,” Big Tim said. “In a tavern, I once watched and waited for a drunkard who was no drunkard at all. And he eluded me. I always wanted to try that myself. We got them, my lady, because we kept our wits about us. But though we did not drink, it does not mean all of us had clear minds. Some were drunk from other means.”

“You mean Captain Dao?”

Big Tim nodded.

Perenenda left the fire and sat next to Dao, who was sharpening her blade. "Why do you hate them so?"

"Thieves and deceivers, as you said my lady," Dao replied.

"Does Lord Helem treat you well?"

"Very well, my lady," Dao answered. "Or as well as someone of my class befits."

"It sounds like you had an unusual position with a Tree Lord," Perenenda noted. "Yet you are a Rootless, and part Pyderi. I can see he cares for you. How came you to his care?"

"Helembasil...," Dao's voice drifted. "He is my lord. But he is also my father. He is a great and honorable lord, ever faithful to your own father the king, and to the laws of our country. Though Lord Helembasil showed me whatever affection his court would allow a father to give his baseborn daughter, my father's wife the Lady Nona would not allow me in his house. I served as a living reminder of that while he remained faithful to his king and his folk, he was not faithful to his own family. My mother was a Pyderi whore that seduced my father and later tried to sell me as a child at his doorstep. I am base, but my father raised me to be independent and a warrior."

"In the morning we shall return to your father's house and you will bring this gift to him."

The return home took two days. The injured Pyderi were carried by horse while Kamfongil's men walked. The Butchers initially balked at the idea of walking while those that deserved death were able to ride. Perenenda gave them the option of riding while carrying a wounded Pyderi, but the Butchers opted not to further burden their horses.

When they reached Helembasil's house, a crowd had gathered and cheered as Perenenda rode by. "The Foam God's waters blesses those who perform honest work," she told the crowd. "The gods will ultimately judge these murderers and thieves, but your lord will have first pass at judgement."

She tried to bow before Lord Helembasil but he embraced her before she could.

“I am joyed for your safe return," he said. He turned to Dao. "As I am for yours."

Dao kneeled before him. "My lord, my life is always at your service."

"And I thank you for it," he said, touching her face. "You have proven yourself to be trustworthy in service and that has pleased me greatly. But it would please me more if you served the princess Perenenda, if she would have you."

"You wish to dismiss me?" Dao asked, looking up.

"I wish to set you free," he said. "For a long time your duty has kept you near me, though I know you could live a more fulfilling life if you were not bound by our unfair laws. I wish on you greater purpose for your life, something I could not give you in all the years you have served me, my daughter. I do not give you away. Rather, I want you to represent my house. Nendi, will you accept Captain Dao into your service?"

"I would gladly accept her, my lord."

Dao kneeled before Perenenda. "None of the men and women under my command are part of any Trees, so their ties are as deep as only their own current lives allow. They will all swear their service to you, as I do it now. And if you allow it, I will be captain of your sworn Rootless, my lady."

"No," Perenenda said. "Rootless, baseborn, whoresons...these are labels we now leave behind. You are the fallen fruit of a Tree, and you were told you are denied any claim from a forfeited birthright, that you may not sow your own line. The time of sowing has passed, and now is the time to reap. You will be captain of my Reapers."