With the nimble quickness her family was noted for, Farilane leapt onto Mirthlyn and removed herself from the fray she’d created. This was the wisest course of action. With her on the stallion’s back, an arrow would have trouble catching her, and this quick retreat granted Kolby plenty of room and time to act without factoring her safety into his calculations. Besides, she’d be of no help.

What Farilane knew about martial arts was purely theoretical. While she had watched the Teshlors practice quite often and had witnessed them in actual battles on a few unpleasant occasions, she had never trained with weapons. Farilane believed that any solution requiring violence on her part was a sign of utter failure, a complete collapse of her intellect. Learning the sword would be tantamount to a bird practicing how to bounce.

She did, however, enjoy the fluid movements of the Teshlor’s drills. She found grace in their dance, a calm in their clashes. Exercises were far more enjoyable than implementation. Theory was always so much more beautiful than reality. For this reason, Farilane chose not to watch. She had already stained her memory with enough ugly things. She didn’t need this.

When the first cries of men cut the morning, Farilane trotted toward the planted fields and marveled at how green the beans already were. A young man clutching the handle of a hoe to his chest stood wide-eyed and open-mouthed as he looked past her at the source of the loud sounds.

“Best if you don’t look,” she told him.

“Un-unbelievable,” he stammered. “Like he’s threshing grain.”

Just like a farmer. Everyone metaphors from experience, I guess. I’m certainly glad he’s not a butcher.

“What’s your name?” Farilane asked, leaning down and patting Mirthlyn’s neck.

“Darrin, ma’am, Darrin Seret. My father is the village elder.”

“Well, Darrin, I think after today, you and your family—this whole village—will experience a surge in prosperity. These beans are going to taste especially fine, since your sister and mother won’t have to pay for the handful you’re allowed to eat.”

This broke the spell cast by the action across the yard. The boy looked down at the crops. “That they will. How did you know? No one is allowed to speak of it.”

“I pay attention.”

Something new caught the boy’s sight. “Another one! There are two Teshlors! And he’s huge!”

“You don’t see an old man anywhere, do you? White beard, long robes, terrified look on his face?”

“No,” Darrin said, his eyes intent, shifting from sound to sound.

“Good. He’s still in the stable then. I knew he was smart.”

“Why don’t you watch? Why don’t you look? You sort of started this, didn’t you?”

“There’s no sort of about it, and that’s why I don’t watch.”