Kelton saw two full moons deep in the woods with Joycelyn's family. Gossamer worked with him daily to improve his swordsmanship. Kelton, in turn, taught what he knew to Taggert. Rebecca insisted she would know as well. Unlike most women, Joycelyn was not against the idea. She did make sure Cory constructed wooden swords so there would be no blood drawn.

Joycelyn invented a new type of sheath for Kelton and Gossamer. Using leather, she sewed them upside down on the hidden side of their packs, the part that lay against their backs when they traveled. The sword would enter from the bottom and a leather loop would hold the hilt tight, and the swords would remain hidden from casual observation. They only needed to reach back and flick the loop away to draw the sword downward. It was an ingenious simple creation that would save them from carrying them wrapped in cloth or exposing the blades at their sides.

Between swordplay and frequent games of stones, Taggert became enamored with storytelling. Gossamer spent time teaching him the tricks of the trade. Though Kelton recognized most of the talents, to hear them expounded upon was a revelation. He thought it came naturally to Gossamer, something that couldn't easily be put into words. Gossamer proved him wrong and began shaping Taggert's expressions, tone, and body movements into a fine storyteller. Taggert's stories didn't yet carry the punch of Gossamer's tales, but Kelton had to admit they were entertaining. Taggert's only weakness was his lack of maturity and time would solve that eventually.

It was the lack of food that finally made them consider leaving the protection of the woods. Hunting was becoming more difficult, and the flour ran out. Joycelyn was becoming concerned about the missing diversity in their meals. Winter was approaching which would further weaken the foraging.

It was during a game of stones that Cory informed Kelton they were planning to leave at sunrise. Kelton had begun to feel like he was part of a family. He always knew it wouldn't last, but it was disappointment all the same. He tossed his last stone before he responded.

"I will miss this," Kelton said. His rock had landed touching the stick. He had become an expert at the game. His muscle memory would easily adjust for any weight of rock, lofting it with optimal arc, usually landing within a finger's width of his desired target.

"You will come with us," Rebecca said as if it were a fact Kelton was unaware of. Though he had become like a brother, there was still hope in the young girl's eyes. The hope of something that everyone else knew could never be.

"I can not," Kelton said, shaking his head. "I wish it were possible, but trouble will follow me. If something happened to you, I would never forgive myself."

"Papa, tell him to come with us."

"No, my little one. Kelton is right. If we are seen together, we all perish. Our only hope is to split apart." Cory rubbed the top of Rebecca's head. "We are farmers and need to find land before the spring comes. Kelton and Gossamer know the forest and will do best away from us and towns."

"I will miss you greatly," Kelton told her. "You as well," he added to Taggert.

Their last meal together was a sparse affair. Joycelyn had managed to stretch one serving of rabbit into six. The watery stew was augmented with a root. It came from a red-veined large-leafed plant that grew in small bunches. Joycelyn called it Dog Root, Gossamer knew it as Blood Leaf. Kelton thought it a tasteless chew. His stomach appreciated the bulk, and it seemed to sit there for a time. Full was better than empty.

It was in the middle of one of Gossamer's stories, one the last he would share with the family when Kelton first felt them. The sun had yet to fully set, a darkening blue sky outlining the leaves on the trees. He stood and drew his sword. People were coming, more than his ability allowed him to count. Gossamer kept speaking as he watched Kelton turnabout. North was the last direction open, and it closed. They were ringed by many, more than twenty as best as Kelton could tell. He dropped the tip of his sword to the ground. Gossamer stopped speaking, seeing the obvious in Kelton's eyes.

"They are all around," Kelton whispered. Joycelyn pulled Taggert and Rebecca close. Cory jumped up and stood before them, his small blade drawn. He didn't show any fear, which made up for the terror on Joycelyn's face.

"How many?" Gossamer asked.

"More than twenty, mayhap a lot more," Kelton said. Gossamer nodded with a grim expression.

"If you come for blood, we will take more than we give," Gossamer shouted. He drew his sword and flexed it before him as if he were limbering up. Kelton raised his sword again and turned his back to Gossamer and Cory. He told himself he would take the ten or so coming from his direction. His fear wasn't as acute as the first time he had to use his sword. Maybe it became easier to die, once you've tried it before.

"Only one is coming," Kelton said, turning toward Cory and pointing where he felt the body advancing.

"Watch for Brethren," Gossamer warned. Kelton turned back, away from the fire. Even if they were only soldiers, the odds were impossible. The Brethren would only speed the end game.

A bulk of a man appeared from between the trees. He stopped well out of reach, a sword still sheathed on his side, a cloak of blue over the opposite shoulder. Kelton recognized the Hold Lord, though his face didn't look as pained as he remembered.

"Your blades are useless," the Lord said calmly. "I need but call out, and the end would be swift."

"I could get to you before they get to me," Kelton said, confident of the distances and estimating how quickly the Lord's bulk could move. The Lord looked at least fifty winters old and slow due to it.

"Dead is dead, boy," the Lord said. He put his hands on his hips and looked at the three armed men. "Do you wish to fight, or would you hear my words first."

"Words!" Joycelyn said quickly.

"Listen to your woman." The Lord pointed at Joycelyn while his eyes traveled between the drawn blades. "Wisdom is the first thing lost when blades are drawn."

Gossamer lowered his blade. Kelton followed suit and Cory put his knife back in its sheath.

"I'd feel better if they were put fully away," the Lord said. Gossamer sighed, then sheathed his blade into his pack after nodding to Kelton. Kelton reluctantly put his sword away. He felt naked.

"May I sit?" the Lord asked Joycelyn. She nodded and pulled her children closer. The Lord moved slowly toward the log, a good arm's length from Joycelyn. He flipped the tail of his blue cloak behind the log in a practiced manner and sat. "Please," he said, indicating the men should sit as well. They did.

"Your fire's smoke is what gave you away," the Lord began. "The roads have all been closed in my hold as the world hunts for you." He pointed at Kelton. "You have no idea what kind of hell you have awoken, do you boy?"

"I couldn't let him kill them," Kelton said defensively.

"You could have. You should have. But you didn't," the Lord returned. "Now, many more people are at risk. My people." Cory stood, his face reddening. The Lord's hand rose, palm facing outward toward Cory. "It's simple numbers, my man, not a ranking of your family's value." Joycelyn pulled at Cory's pants, helping him to sit.

"I'd do it again. I'll not ignore such things," Kelton said.

"I believe you, boy." The Lord sighed.

"Do you think to convince us to surrender peaceably?" Gossamer asked. The Lord laughed. It was a deep belly laugh that echoed through the trees. Kelton looked about and saw that everyone was as confused as he was. It took a moment for the Lord to slow to a chuckle and regain control.

"Surrender is not an option I can afford," the Lord said. He wiped his eyes which had teared up during his laughter. "It's always the numbers, you see. While they are looking for you, they are not hunting down the town folk. Surrender, or your death, would do nothing but hasten the demise of many others. You see, they must destroy the man before they destroy the idea he represents." He gestured toward Joycelyn. "She saw to that."

"It seemed prudent at the time," Joycelyn said. There was no regret in her voice.

"Self-preservation always has a prudent feel about it," the Lord agreed. "It has left me with poor choices. On the one hand, I am tasked to hunt you down and return your dead body to the Brethren as proof. They do not wish your existence to last a moment longer than necessary. On the other hand, to do so would lead to the extinction of many others. All innocent but for viewing your display."

"You wish us not to be found," Gossamer surmised.

"That is easily accomplished," the Lord said, waving it away as a thought he had long discounted. "I could have you killed and buried deep in these woods, where your bodies would never be found." He looked at Kelton. "That can still be done if necessary."

"You wish something else of me?" Kelton asked.

"Yes, though it is more of a demand." The Lord remained steady as he took the measure of Kelton. "You are unseen, that much I have gathered. No one else could have surprised a Brother. That you lived so many winters without being detected is a testament to your ability to hide." Kelton glanced toward Gossamer. The Lord's eyes followed. "Ahh, you had help. Someone who knows what is."

"He was only made aware recently," Gossamer said. "It is I who am to blame. I regret none of it." The Lord nodded, a sly smile forming on his face. Kelton wasn't sure he trusted the smile.

"Then I demand it of the two of you. You will use your ability to remain hidden and travel far, away from my lands. You will do this, but leave a trail of sightings along the way."

"You wish us to prolong the chase," Gossamer said.

"I give you three moons, maybe less. By then you will be hunted down by men more zealous than I. Eventually by the Brethren themselves, and their backs will not be turned to you."

"And why would we agree to this?" Gossamer asked.

"Like me, your choices are all poor ones," the Lord said, flipping his hand as if it were a foregone conclusion. "Everyone dies, or some die. It is a numbers game."

"And what of them?" Kelton asked, pointing toward Joycelyn and her children. The Lord smiled and pointed at Kelton, jabbing his finger in the air as if he were poking Kelton's chest.

"That heart of yours will hasten your death. This land has little room for those who think beyond the practical." The Lord sighed. "Alas, I must be practical. They will be in my charge. Hostages if you like." Kelton stood, and Cory followed. The Lord's hand rose again to quell their anger. "You do as I ask and I give you my word. They will live out their lives in as much peace as this land can offer."

"They wish to have a farm," Kelton demanded. The Lord laughed.

"You have no power. No real choice in the matter and yet you make demands." The Lord shook his head in disbelief. "Very well. If you survive the winter and have drawn off the Brethren, they will be set to farming." His finger began jabbing at the air again. "Fail me, and I will need to appease the Brethren in any way I can. The numbers will decide."

"We will not fail," Kelton said and looked at Gossamer.

"No, we will not," Gossamer agreed. "Though know this, if I find you have gone back on your word, I will not hesitate to inform my executioner of your betrayal to the Brethren."

"Now that is practical!" the Lord said as he stood. "See that boy, that is the ruthlessness that will allow you to survive longer than most. We are in agreement then?" Both Kelton and Gossamer nodded their agreement.

"And we have no say in it?" Cory asked.

"None. You and yours only need to survive," the Lord said. "It is the way of things. My life has never been my own, so why should yours?"

"I don't like my future in the hands of others."

"There's always the Brethren if you prefer," the Lord offered.

"Then we have no choice at all," Joycelyn said. "We will put ourselves in your hands and pray the Goddess finds us worthy of breathing."

"You will need to cut your daughter's hair and dress her like your son. We have places to travel, and it's best you have two sons instead of one ripe for a Choosing. Mayhap rub some mud on her face, there's a beauty about it that needs to be covered." Joycelyn took her children toward the wagon to begin Rebecca's transformation. Cory grunted his helpless discontent, then followed.

"What's your name boy?" the Lord asked.

"Kelton."

"You have no idea of the enemies you have made, Kelton," the Lord said. "There are secrets you will never know about the Brethren. The promises they make to ones such as me are hard to resist. As the winters go by, their promises become more valuable and more difficult to ignore. What I do now, with you, risks more than you can ever imagine. I do so not for you, but for those I can only poorly protect. You remember that when you run. It's not just the people that are known to you at risk, but the lives of those who have merely witnessed."

"Mayhap, if others would not just witness..." Kelton began.

"Then death would rain down on all of us," the Lord interrupted. "You do not know their numbers, and they limit mine. The king himself is but a pawn, as you are now. The Brethren fight with a skill we can not match. At best, it would take the lives of four or five trained fighters to take down one of them."

"Or one unseen," Gossamer said.

"How many do you think you can sneak up on, boy? There are countless numbers housed behind their walls. Do you know how many of their missionaries are abroad as well? Their stranglehold on our ports even keeps that information from the likes of me." the Lord shook his head. "No one has the power to face them head on, even if my fellow lords or the King himself wished it so."

"They must think otherwise to hunt Kelton so," Gossamer argued.

"He is but a broken spoke on a wheel," the Lord said, wiping away the idea as if it were a fly buzzing in the air. "A minor disruption they wish to repair and repair it they will. Dissent is not something they tolerate, and you are labeled as a spreader of that disease."

"So I must die," Kelton said.

"You must run north," the Lord said. "Die most likely, but the Goddess may shine on you. Shunneer City houses our largest port. If you make it there," the lord shrugged, "mayhap you can sneak aboard a ship. There are captains who bend the rules when the coins jingle loudly enough. An unseen could hide among the cargo." He shook his head. "Ahhh, I sell you dreams. The King's men will offer you no quarter along the way, and you will find folks well motivated to act as their eyes and ears. There will be no help, even from me. I find you on the roads I'll have no choice but to end it."

"Then we'll stay off the roads," Gossamer said.

"Stick with this one," the Lord told Kelton. "He'll give you more life then you're due."