When Derrek opened his eyes, he found the night, along with the grey moon, was gone and a new day was bearing down on him. He was laid flat on his back in a patch of dirt, a wool blanket thrown over him, and his floppy wide-brimmed hat was placed in arm’s reach. He felt as if a hammer had struck his head. As he began to stir, he heard approaching bootsteps stomping on rocky ground and not stopping until a pair of shadows was over him. After a sharp kick to his side, he heard a curt voice say, “Get up, baby knight.”

  A mellower voice followed, “Be gentle, sister.”

  “He needs to get up. Joanne said so,” demanded the first voice.

  Struggling to rise, a hand grabbed him and yanked him to his feet. The red-haired Gai glared at his face and narrowed her eyes. “You’re lucky our lady likes you, squire. Or you wouldn’t be here. The lord master believed it was you who done it.” The Lysaneea sisters began patting dirt off him.

  The blue-haired Mel said, “Be thankful, there will be no whipping either. Joanne convinced the lord master not to bother.”

  Gai commented, “Aye, Joanne was afraid your pink baby skin might be hurt, hah ha.”

  “What is all this?” The boy asked, vexed in tone.

  “Too much wine, baby knight,” said Gai. “Shame on you. And I thought you didn’t like to drink.”

  Placing his hat on his head, Mel said, “Your master’s waiting for you.” Then both sisters took their leave.

  Derrek drew in a long breath and began surveying around him. The camp was gravely quiet and barely a soul was hustling anywhere. He saw soldiers lying unconscious, sprawled recklessly, where they must’ve tumbled in the night. Others, a small few, were groggy and sluggish, lumbering in short steps in the morning sun.

  After a short walk, Derrek soon crossed ways with Rodger, still in his colorful-feathered cloak, sitting miserably over a water bucket with a ladle spoon feeding himself sips of water. “Grey take me,” said the faery man as Derrek approached. Rodger lifted the spoon to the boy. “Here. take a drink. Looks like you need to.”

  Derrek took the spoon and slurped.

  Rodger commented, “The day’s gonna be hard. The lord master’s sure to be in a bitter mood.”

  “Is that so?” Derrek asked.

  “Aye, the children are gone,” said Rodger.

  “They’re gone?” Derrek said, surprised.

  “Gone before sunrise, that’s all I know.”

  Derrek pressed him, “Where were the guards?”

  “Look around ya,” said Rodger. “I bet face down in the dirt.”

  Derrek handed the spoon back to Rodger. “Much thanks.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Away in the Vinndash camp, Sherral, still dressed with a sword, marched into her brother’s tent. There she found her little brother naked on furs on the ground and wrapped in embrace with the islander woman, Eillandi. Sherral called her brother’s name, but neither Wylen nor Eillandi reacted, keeping dead still in their slumber. Even when the Vinndash woman kicked her brother, he stayed unconscious. Sherral growled, “You lowly wretch!” before storming out of the tent.

  Derrek Halloway eventually found the lord master, Captain Joanne, and Captain Thorn standing together beside the area where the outlaw children had been held before.

  “The wine casks were especially ripe,” explained Joanne. “And took its toll.”

  “From two cups?” Elliot asked.

  “Many men took liberties,” said Joanne.

  He frowned at her. “And whose duty was it to watch that? This is precisely what worried me. Look at them all now.”

  She glanced away in shame. “Apologies, lord master. But it did stay any mutiny.”

  Thorn asked, “And where are the rest of the casks, may I ask?”

  Joanne answered, “I had them dumped immediately once I saw what had happened.”

  “Oh,” said Thorn with the faintest of smiles on his lips. “That’s very unfortunate. I would’ve enjoyed sampling them for tests.”

  Joanne said, “that is unfortunate.”

  When Derrek was within a few paces, the lord master veered around and said, coldly, to the boy, “YOU. Where is Sollazar?”

  Derrek shrugged. “I know not, lord master.”

  “Ah,” Joanne said, “I sent him out before sunrise.”

  “You sent him?” Elliot said with mild contempt.

  Joanne explained, “To track the orphans. Was that not correct? Would you have not done so?”

  Elliot huffed. “Send your riders out as well. Hunt in all directions—capture the children and kill anyone with them.”

  “When they are able,” said Joanne. “But the wine has taken its toll on them as well.”

  Elliot suddenly lowered his head. A small voice began whispering in his mind again. Abandon them… all of them… leave them to their fate… they are not worthy of you… But Elliot collected himself and the voice passed. He eyed Joanne, and said, “So be it. When they are able.” He then marched away, grumbling.

  Thorn sighed. “A shame to waste those potions. Rare ingredients difficult to come by in the legion.”

  “What a pity,” Joanne said, “But I am sure you will find use for them eventually.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” said Thorn as he slightly bowed. “Good morn, witch… squire.” He strolled away, stepping lightly and humming to himself.

  Joanne’s eyes then shifted to Derrek from behind the frayed edges of the shroud. “Squire,” she asked, “how do you feel?”

  Derrek said, “What mean you with all this? Why did you—”

  “Hush…” Joanne spoke with a motherly tone. She slipped off a glove and presented a bare hand to him. She whispered, “Come here.”

  The boy hesitated but Joanne carefully and patiently moved towards him. When he was within arm’s reach, she snatched his hand, squeezing skin to skin, and pulled him close. The strings of the hood’s frayed edges rolled across her white face as her dark amber eyes burned on him. A violent shudder came over Derrek as if he was struck by lightning, and the boy was stunned. Her voice, sounding tender and shadowy, spoke in his mind without her lips moving. I could not let another foolish boy die. Sir Elliot would’ve been seeking someone to blame and if you had ran away or was found sober… there would be nothing I could do.

  Derrek responded with his own thoughts. Are the children really safe?

  Yes. Her voice spoke as her head nodded. I made sure. I promised a mother I would.

  A Mother? Derrek responded back.

  Her name was Lorna Reeds. Joanne’s eyes stared intently into the boy’s. Derrek, we must watch over Sir Elliot. Keep him on the right path. We must do so, time to time… even secretly. And it will be dangerous. Can you aid me in this?

  Derrek answered, I… Yes. I can.

  I thought so, said Joanne’s voice. I can tell a brave soul.

  Then the dark lady released the boy, and she spoke, plainly and quietly, “We’ve had our first touch, squire. The next will be easier, I promise.” She pulled his hat down and fixed it tightly. “Try not to lose this so easily.” And with that, Joanne Ballessteer left him. Her black shroud silently swept across the ground as she disappeared into the camp.