Serenity rose from the water and smiled at Kelton. Her beauty drew him into the water. Ignoring the flood over the tops of his boots he pursued his desire. Her eyes sparkled, reflecting the soft morning sun as it danced across the surface of the pond. He heard his name from her lips, a song that dissolved into his soul. Her welcoming arms reached out to him, and the water froze locking his legs in place.

Kelton shivered as he broke from the dream. The world was white and cold was seeping into his core. It had snowed as he slept. It looked to be fist deep, gently laid. Large flakes were still floating down, growing the accumulation. The branches above had gathered large quantities that threatened to fall if disturbed. His mouth was dry, and his nose closed solid, thick with mucus.

The idea of leaving what little warmth stored in the makeshift blanket was not appealing. Kelton knew there was no staying put. At a minimum, he would have to gather wood and build a more substantial structure. That would only take care of another night or two. Food would become an issue. That and the soldiers might catch up to him if he were to stay put. Movement was his only option if he wanted to survive.

Kelton regretted breaking out from the blanket of needles and branches. They weren't perfect, yet the small warmth they provided disappeared immediately. He rolled out from under the evergreen and brushed off the snow that fell from the branches he was forced to disturb. Sword in hand, he moved back to the road which was covered with a pristine layer of snow. There would be no hiding his tracks. At least he couldn't sense anyone. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad, given his lack of supplies.

Rolic came to mind as Kelton began moving down the road. The man had stalled the Brethren with his arrows, then fled, leaving Kelton to his fate. He must have followed Kelton from the cave. It didn't make any sense. Why would Rolic spend such effort for someone he was sending away? There was no good reason why Kelton couldn't have wintered in the cave. It seemed they were kindred spirits. Unseen in a land where it was a death sentence.

Rolic had been correct about the Brethren's sword skill. Running was the only option that held a promise of survival. It could have been fear that made Rolic run after launching his arrows. The desire to live is a powerful one. Still, two unseen would be more formidable than one. Rolic was an enigma. Not friend, not foe. Something in between and undefinable. For all Kelton knew, Rolic was aiming the arrows at him and missed. It certainly would have been easier to hit the Brethren before they called out for the soldiers. Kelton smiled to himself. Maybe Rolic hated trees since that's all Kelton had ever seen him hit.

Kelton glanced backward and let out a long breath, which floated away in a cloud. It wouldn't take a tracker to follow him. It was snowing weakly, not enough to cover the tracks he was leaving behind. He shifted his sword between hands. He would have to rig something to hid the sword under his cloak if he meant to keep it. He missed his pack.

It was midday before Kelton found water he wouldn't have to melt. A shallow stream flowed across the road, a stripe of missing snow revealing a rocky ford. With no waterskin, he was forced to use his hand and drink it cold. It iced his insides, bringing the cold deeper into his body. His nose started running again, which was a blessing since air now passed through the nostrils. He could feel himself getting ill. His muscles were sluggish, and his head felt thick. Nothing he couldn't function with, not that he had a choice.

The day wore on, taking its toll on Kelton. There was no traffic on the road, and he couldn't feel another soul. He reached a point when a decision had to be made. Trudge on in hopes of finding shelter or stop and construct something for the night. He didn't relish the idea of another night wrapped in needles. The road had to lead somewhere, and the snow had stopped falling. The air was dead still, weakening the cold.

Kelton decided to move on. He would walk through the night. In the morning, if there were no shelter to be found, he would build one and spend a day napping in front of a fire. He coughed, shook the cobwebs from his mind, and continued down the road.

The wind picked up as the light disappeared. Kelton wrapped his cloak tight around himself as snow began to fall again. Late in the night, the snowfall changed, the flakes grew larger with less space between them. As it thickened, the wind increased and light lessened. He traveled by the dull glow off the snow, following the treeless path of the road and hoping some clearing didn't lead him astray.

Kelton rethought his decision to walk through the night. He hadn't considered a storm. His tired mind knew that shelter was becoming imperative. He also knew that stopping without shelter would be a disaster. The road was barely visible in the driving blizzard. Walking into the trees could become a death sentence. He smiled at the thought. The idea of disappearing from the world and leaving the Brethren unknowing for all eternity had some appeal. He shook off the defeatism.

The storm's fury increased. There was strength in the snow's attack, the flakes turning to pellets that stung the skin. Kelton turned sideways to it and trudged on, continually turning his head to verify his direction. His mind toyed with the idea of walking into the trees and collapsing on the leeward side of a large one. Perhaps he would get lucky and find another evergreen that would block the bulk of the onslaught.

Stopping was death, Kelton reminded himself as the temperature continued to drop. Moving down the road held some promise and kept his muscles working. It had to lead somewhere. He had almost given up when his sense picked up people ahead.

Perhaps townsfolk. Maybe soldiers, with or without Brethren. It mattered not. People meant shelter and warmth. Without it, Kelon wouldn't make it. His legs sensed the end of traveling and lengthened the weak pace he had been holding. He turned into the wind and forced his body forward, ignoring the viciousness the snow had become.

The count of people grew as he approached. There seemed to be no end to them. Groups gathered here and there, homes hidden by the storm most likely. The stretched as far as Kelton's sense could feel. It was a town. The largest town he had ever come upon.

Approaching civilization with an exposed sword wasn't wise. Hiding it was a risk, but Kelton was too cold to care. He moved off the road by a large tree. It wasn't the best place, but in a dark blizzard, there was no searching for a better location. He cut a gash in the tree, then buried the sword under the snow on the side opposite the road. His hand had trouble letting go; the cold had stiffened his joints, weakening his ability to control his fingers. Shelter and warmth were becoming critical.

The town was bigger than Kelton first thought. Shadows of two and three story buildings appeared through the blowing snow. Some constructed partially of stone. The brutal wind brought with it the brief scents of hearths that caressed his desire for warmth. The idea of standing before a fire pulled him forward to the first door, a half stone building with two floors, shuttered tight although flame light leaked from the seams. There were four people inside, his sense of them weak. If Rolic was to be believed, they were asleep.

Kelton tried to knock, but it was too painful for his frozen hands. He resorted to kicking the door. No one stirred, so he repeated the process with more vigor. This time, Kelton's sense of two of them grew brighter. One moved toward the door. A large man, clean shaven, bald and wrapped in a thick fir, opened the door. His expression wasn't inviting.

"Two bits," the man said.

"What?"

"Two bits and you can warm yourself until the storm ebbs. A little more and you can have what's left of supper."

"To share your fire?" Kelton asked. The weather was turning deadly. Charging for shelter at such a time was cruel at best.

"Two bits or be on your way." He didn't wait for Kelton to answer before closing the door. What little money Kelton had was lost with his pack. Kelton's body began shaking at the thought of being turned away. He kicked the door again.

"You got two bits?" the man called from behind the door.

"Nay," Kelton responded. His voice was raspy and lacked volume.

"Bar it," another muffled voice called from inside. Kelton heard a bar being put in place, locking away his hope. He knocked with his boot again and was met with silence. The man moved back to where he started.

Kelton reluctantly moved on. A three-story wood building that held over 20 people was off to the right. Many paired off in what seemed to be rooms with a group of 6 on the ground floor, seemingly awake. Surely one of them would have a heart. The wind and snow attacked Kelton again as he moved between the buildings. It hurt more than it did a moment ago. The unexpected rejection had worsened the storm.

It took three tries to get someone to respond to the door. Kelton wasn't sure if it was the noise of the storm or a lack of interest that slowed them. The door opened a crack, and a young girl's face appeared, a head shorter than Kelton. He could feel precious warmth leaking from inside.

"May I share your fire?" Kelton asked. Again, his voice had trouble forming words. The cold had invaded deep into his muscles.

"Send them away," a deep voice called out from far behind the door. "Tis cold enough without opening the door."

"We are full," the girl said and tried to close the door. Kelton's boot moved forward, blocking the door from closing.

"I will die out here," Kelton said with desperation.

"I said close the door!"

"Remove your foot," the girl whispered. "Or the King's own will do it for you." Her eyes and head tilted to the right, indicating the male voice that had just spoken. Kelton slowly retracted his boot. He wasn't sure if he wanted to die in the cold or in the warmth with a sword in his belly. The girl raised her arm on the door, and her sleeve fell away from her wrist, exposing a Wilted Rose. Kelton replaced his boot.

"Joycelyn of Boyertown house is my witness," Kelton said as quietly as he could, remembering Joycelyn's last words to him. The girl's eyes went wide, and she hesitated a moment.

"I'll close it myself!" an angry voice said. Kelton could feel the man approaching and pulled his boot back.

"There's no room here," the girl said loudly and slammed the door closed.

Joycelyn was wrong. There was no help coming from that one. Kelton considered kicking the door again. At least he'd be warm when the soldiers ended his life. Live, Rolic told him. Live for what? For a moment more of suffering. Kelton could feel the sluggishness in his muscles and knew what it meant. If he couldn't find help soon, he would collapse and sleep neverending. He gritted his teeth. The whole town couldn't all be horrible people. There had to be one good soul. He leaned against the building for a moment, gathering what little strength he had left.

After a moment, Kelton moved on, dragging his feet through the snow. Lifting them was more effort than he could afford. Using his sense more than his eyes, Kelton decided the small home ahead with only one person would be his next attempt. He turned his head to protect his face from the onslaught of the wind as he left the protection of the building. It hit with more force than he expected and he teetered on weak legs.

"Kelton?"

Kelton thought he had imagined his name buried in the wind. He stopped, trying to decipher its meaning and regain his balance. He sensed a presence that he first thought was moving inside the building.

"Are you the one they call Kelton?" a soft feminine voice asked from the side of the building. Kelton turned, using his hand to block the driving snow.

"You know me?" Kelton asked. There was a small bundled shape before him, wrapped from head to toe. Hope grew as he stumbled toward the shape. Someone knew him. If it is death, let it be swift and warm.

A cloth-wrapped hand reached out and pulled the hood of Kelton's cloak away from his face, exposing his scar. Satisfied, she pulled the cloak closed again.

"Come, and be silent," the woman said, taking Kelton's hand in hers. She had no idea how wonderful it felt to have her clothed hand cover Kelton's frozen fingers. It didn't matter where she was leading him. The hint of warmth was all that he needed to follow like a loyal dog.

The woman moved with an agility that exceeded Kelton's frozen bones. He stumbled, then forced his muscles to adhere to her will and give their last. They moved behind the building on the windward side of the storm. The driving snow had forced a large drift against the wall, forcing Kelton to lift his legs higher than they desired. The woman, well wrapped against the storm, plowed through without slowing, dragging Kelton in her wake.

The woman reached a door at the far end of the building, opposite the one Kelton had tried to enter earlier. Enough snow had been pushed away to allow it to swing open. Kelton could feel two other people waiting for them on the other side. Friends or soldiers, it didn't matter. Only warmth mattered. He was losing the battle with the cold.

The woman pulled Kelton inside. His ears were the first part of him to relax as the sound of the wind weakened when the door closed. A single candle dimly lit a small larder, sacks along one wall and filled shelves lining the other. It was less cold than outside, though Kelton's raspy breathe was still clearly visible.

"Th...Thank you," Kelton said, trying to stop his body from shaking. The two other forms were women, one young like him, the other older. Both wrapped in shawls against the cold. The older put her finger to her lips, signaling for him to be quiet.

"Take him to my room," the woman who led Kelton into the building whispered. She was unwrapping herself, exposing a face much older than her voice indicated. "Keep him covered until you get there." The two others nodded, the older taking Kelton's hand and leading him through another door. Kelton followed, again the dog in tow.

They entered a hallway and heat caressed Kelton's exposed skin. He smiled and wiped his running nose with his free hand. The younger of the two moved to his side as they passed an entryway to a large room where masculine laughter could be heard. He turned his head away, allowing his hooded cloak to block his face. The young girl used her body to hide his as they passed. The laughter continued, the group unaware, or uncaring, of Kelton's passing.

The room they entered was colder than the hallway, though vastly warmer than outside. It was a small place. A mattress supported by a wood frame against one wall. There was a thin table on the opposite side, used as a shelf to support odds and ends along with a large bowl, presumably for washing. A wooden chest lay on the floor next to the table. The young girl took a candle from a hallway sconce and ignited two on the table. She replaced the candle, returned to the room and shut the door.

"You're freezing," the older whispered, releasing Kelton's hand. He hadn't realized he was still holding on to it. Kelton's core was shaking although he was no longer worried about it. The storm battering the outside walls reminded him of where he could be. There was still a weakness that permeated his muscles. Standing was becoming more of an effort now that there was a bed in sight.

The older girl began removing Kelton's cloak, the younger waiting to receive it. Kelton stood still shivering. His clothes held the chill in their folds and moving enhanced it. When the girl started to undo his shirt, Kelton's mind kicked in. He wasn't going to be undressed in front of the two of them. He didn't even know their names. Juno had been a different story, being a healer and having already seen him while he was unconscious. There was a purpose too it then. Kelton lifted his hands to block the girl from preceding.

"We have to get you warm," the older girl whispered.

"A blanket will do," Kelton rasped, pointing at that bed. There were two covers folded on the end that looked inviting.

"After we get these off," the girl argued, her voice rising. Her hands went back to Kelton's shirt. The younger girl grinned at him as she folded his cloak over her arm. Kelton knocked the hands away again, his arms weak but determined.

"Oh, for Goddess' sake," the girl exasperated.

"Quiet." The women who originally brought Kelton into the building entered the room quickly. "I can hear you in the hall." Her voice was authoritative, yet barely above a whisper. Kelton could tell she was used to having her words obeyed. "Lilly, you go make tea for our visitor and no words with anyone else." The young girl nodded, placed Kelton's folded cloak on the bed and left the room.

"Darnell, you go make sure the soldiers want for nothing," the woman continued. Darnell, the older girl, frowned and stopped her attempt at undressing Kelton.

"Yes, mother," Darnell said, though it sounded more like a curse.

"And smile," mother added. Darnell forced one on her face and left.

"I am Tillyen, mother of this house." She smiled at Kelton. Her hair was graying and crinkles appeared on the edges of her eyes. A old dulled Wilted Rose graced her wrist. There was no doubt she was once beautiful. Kelton was sure she still was, in a motherly way.

"Thank you," Kelton whispered. A vigorous shiver ran through him as he spoke.

"Darnell is right. You need to get out of those clothes. They are snow coated and turning wet." Tillyen didn't look like she meant to leave and there was no place to undress privately. "Come now, you are shivering. Your insides need to warm." She reached up to undo his shirt, dodging his feeble block.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, boy," Tillyen said with more force. "The Goddess chose to spare you with this storm, and I'll not be the cause of you failing now."

"Spare me?" Kelton whispered. "More like, tried to kill me." Fresh air hit his chest as Tillyen removed his shirt, causing the shivering to increase. His weakness didn't stop him from blocking her hands from his belt. Tillyen sighed and stepped away.

"Shyness is a waste of time here," Tillyen said. She grabbed a blanket and held it out, squeezing her eyes shut. "Hurry, and I'll not peek."

Kelton struggled with the buckle. Feeling was returning to his fingers, yet they were still uncooperative for such a small task. He gave up when the shivering invaded his lower arms.

"I...I cannot," Kelton admitted and closed his eyes. It made no sense, but it was better if he couldn't see her seeing him.

"You are blue, boy," Tillyen said as she had him step out of his boots and trousers. "You traveled like a fool in this weather." The blanket closed around him, and she steered him to the bed. He opened his eyes and sat down, pulling the thick cloth tighter around him.

"I lost my pack," Kelton explained. "I should have stopped for the night, but I didn't want another cold sleep. I wasn't expecting the storm."

"It is all for the best. The Goddess must think highly of you." Tillyen wrapped another blanket around his feet.