His words made no sense for a moment, until she thought of just who "him' could be. Delana stepped back, eyes widening at the news, and Jaegar led her to a fallen tree to sit down. "There was a freak storm." He began by explanation, sitting down beside her. "The littlest Marshal girl was swept into the creek and went over Darglan Falls." Delana nodded, knowing the area as she and Mikael used to meet there when they were younger teenagers. "Several of us went diving trying to find her"and we found him."

The sunny day grew colder as Delana listened mutely, a hand coming to grip the necklace and the ring there. "I knew you'd want to know." Jaegar continued quietly. "I recovered this." He reached into a pouch, pulling out a small ring, gleaming in the sun despite a bit of tarnish around the edges. Delana's eyes found the etchings in the ring, matching those of the one she wore on the necklace, the second of the pair of promise rings the two had exchanged under the roar of the falls.

"How?" She managed to choke out, unwilling to reach out and touch the ring, even though her soul screamed for her to take it. Jaegar's face darkened and it took a few seconds for him to reply.

"There wasn't much left." He immediately regretted those words, seeing Delana's expression, and he hurriedly continued. "Hi"its hands were bound, and the feet were tied to a large rock." Delana's stare snapped up from the ring to his eyes, and the young man saw the spark of anger rising in those simmering blue eyes.

"Pietr?" Hissed, as the young woman looked down toward the distant roofs of Torrence. "That fucking bastard!" Pietr Gardner was the elder son of the Gardner clan, the family that owned the ore mine and the largest cattle ranch of the region. Her father had arranged for Delana's marriage to the odious Pietr, but the young woman had been quick to join Gharnholme's forces when they had marched into the small town. It was well known among the younger generation of Mikael and Delana's feelings for one another and Pietr had openly threatened Mikael to try to drive a wedge.

As Delana pondered, her thoughts returned to the way Pietr had gloated when Mikael had disappeared, saying he had met another and run off. "That lying PIG!" Hopping up, the young woman started down the hill, only to stop at Jaegar's hand on her arm. "Let me go Jaegar."

"De, don't!" Delana looked back, sending blonde locks flying, at the urgent tone in his voice. "Old man Gardner, he's got a bunch of sell-swords on his land now. Says they're for protection." That brought her up short, and she turned toward Jaegar.

"That doesn't make sense! He doesn't have that much to need a lot of mercenaries, and the town provides guards for the mine!"

"I know, but he has a whole bunch of "em down there!" Jaegar pointed toward the town, and the sprawling plains beyond. "They're armed, and I've seen several in heavy armor." That caught Delana's attention, as a tiny voice inside screamed warnings.

"Jaegar, I want you to tell me about these guards." She took the young man's elbow and led him back to the fallen tree. "Tell me everything you can."

"Get the horses to the pond!" Pietr shoved one of the stablehands toward the bunched horses, then turned to sprint around the burning barn. A long line of hired hands and mercenaries stretched between the pond and the barn, a living bucket line trying to put out the flames. Sarlis was extorting them to work faster, at times hitting a passing stableboy with his cane as he hurried past.

"We got the animals out!" Pietr panted, bent over to rest his hands on his knees as he worked to catch his breath.

"Good!" Sarlis cursed as a gout of flame shot from the roof of the large building, the flames clawing toward the sky. "Shit, all the feed-hay's goin" up in smoke!" Pietr could only nod in agreement, though his father did not give him a chance to answer as he spun around. "Dammit, where's Torvarn!"

The mercenary was with his men, who were daring the flames to pull boxes clear of the barn. He heard the bellowed question to his whereabouts but pointedly ignored the call. "Vigo, remind me to start looking for a new patron." He grumbled to another of the men who chuckled darkly as the two carried a box between them.

Sarlis turned back toward his son, started to yell something else then abruptly hit him across the small of the back. The younger man yelped with the sudden impact. "Hey, what?d I do?"

"Where's the damned buckets!" The elder Gardner shouted, pointing down toward the pond. Pietr didn't notice for a second what he was talking about, but it quickly dawned on him the problem: the bucket line had nearly vanished. "Gods dammit!" Sarlis Gardner was fairly hopping in place in anger. "I'll kill "em! Kill "em!"

"I'll get them going!" Pietr, always eager to muscle around the hired hands, jogged in that direction. Skirting the edge of the burning barn he started down the small path, a fist rubbing into an open palm as he shouted for the stablehands to get to work. His oaths and promises of punishment died as the barn partially collapsed behind him sending flames roaring into the sky and illuminating the grounds with flickering lights. Several hulking shapes were moving between the barn and the pond, firelight gleaming dully from blackened weapons and armor.

Pietr turned and ran back up the trail, waving his arms as he screamed warnings as loud as he could. Sarlis merely stared at his elder son with a dumbfounded look and even Torvarn looked up from where he was directing his men in trying to save the barn's contents. "Arms!" The mercenary commander cried out, guessing at the shouting even if he had trouble hearing over the roar of the flames. "Take arms!" His men, well trained, immediately dropped what they were doing and snatched up whatever weapons were at hand. And not a moment too soon, as a screaming mass swept around the corner of the burning barn toward them.

"Northras!" One of the soldiers cried out, just before he was bowled over by the charging press. Torvarn cursed even as he shouted orders. The yard quickly degenerated into a swirling melee as the barbarians, both fur-clad and armored, fell on the sell-swords with their typical abandon. Sarlis moved as fast as he could toward his house, leveling curse after curse on the Northras and any and all in general. He slammed the heavy oak door shut in the face of two screaming barbarians, sliding the bolts in place to lock it behind him. The old man glanced up the stairs where several ghost-white faces peered down at him, the wives and children of his sons.

"Git back ta??The rest was cut off as an axe-blade smashed through the door by his head sending splinters flying. The old man staggered away from the door as the axe was ripped out, then another heavy blow echoed off the door. The sharp tinkle of grass was drowned out by screams of fear from the women and children as they started scrambling in all directions.

"Sarlis Gardner," he started, in accented but passable common. "You stand accused of harboring fugitives, arming those same fugitives, and plotting rebellion." The old man started to speak, but barely uttered a syllable before the sword was tossed to the ground at his feet. "We have recovered the proof. You also stand accused of murder."

"I aint killed nobody!" Sarlis snapped, having backed away from both the discarded weapon and the hulking barbarian that spoke. "Only ones killing around here are you and your savages!" The assembled warriors muttered darkly at the comment causing the captured Gardner's to press closer to each other.

"Commander Javvik." The voice, soft, obviously female, brought the commander of Torrence's garrison around to where one had stepped forward from the crowd. Her hood hid her features but it was obvious the barbarian knew her. "I have a claim here, and evidence that the elder Gardner son committed murder."

The hulking Javvik nodded, glancing back toward the Gardners. "You were saying, old man?" He chuckled darkly in the sputtering Sarlis's face and that brought the old man's ire to a boiling point.

"Damn ye all! You ain't gonna prove nothing with one of your barbarian bitches!" Pietr groaned softly as his wife stepped up to try to calm her father-in-law, but Sarlis would not be deterred. "You think the city council will take her word over mine?" Spittle flew as he raved, waving his arms in his anger and provoking some quiet laughter among the assembled Northras. "Aint no way they'll believe an outlander over a Gardner!"

"I am no outlander!" The sudden scream from the woman jolted the old man to silence, and brought Javvik back around to face her. She had stepped into the center of the ring, and now yanked back her hood, letting platinum-blonde hair spill around her shoulders to gleam in the dying fire of the barn. "My name is Delana Sinclaire, daughter of Ranulf Sinclaire, cobbler of Torrence!"

Sarlis gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish, stunned to silence like the rest of his family. Pietr stared as though he had seen a ghost, and perhaps, he had. "I am Delana Sinclaire, and I accuse that man of killing Mikael Sturngard, my betrothed!" She pointed directly at Pietr, her words having started a low grumbling among the gathered, stony glares being tossed at the young man.

"What's this shyte!" Pietr jerked his shoulder from the grasp of his guard and started forward, only getting a couple of steps before he was stopped again. "You were MY betrothed! Ran off like a slut!" He ignored the shocked look from his wife, eyes locked on Delana.

"A betrothal forced is not a betrothal make!" She shouted back angrily, holding her hand high in the air. Firelight gleamed off a ring she held. "Mikael and I exchanged rings before my father promised me to you, you fucking shavarsti!" Her use of the Northras curse brought another amused round of laughter from the barbarians, and an approving nod from Javvik. "They found his body, weighed down at the bottom of Darglan Falls." She stepped toward Pietr only to be restrained by Javvik's hand on her shoulder. "Did you throw him in before or after you told me he had run off, you bastard!"

Before Pietr could respond, she spun around, addressing the assembled tribe now. "I claim harvsshta on Pietr Gardner!" Now it was the barbarian tribes turn to be stunned, and their prisoners to look on, puzzled. "By tribal law, I claim harvsshta on the murderer of my promised one!"

Javvik looked at the young woman for several long seconds and then around the ring slowly, clearly weighing matters. Finally he nodded once, coming to a decision. "Harvsshta has been claimed, brethren!" He shouted, slowly circling to look about the gathered Northras. "Does any come to support her place in the tribes?"

"I can!" From the second rank of the circle a man stepped forward, the left side of his face bloody from a sword stroke. "I am Borrak, son of Daegor of the Lamoss." He spoke loudly, to carry his voice to all present. "This woman joined our warband after we took Torrence. She has since joined Warlord Terrak's warband, where she is prized for her ability with a bow and as a scout." He nodded to Javvik, and then to Delana, who gave him a small smile of thanks in return.

"Borrak, son of Daegor has spoken of her as a part of the tribes." Javvik slowly turned in a circle, following the ancient tradition. "Can any speak of her deeds?"

Clad in only a sleeveless leather jerkin and breeches, Delana stepped away from the small knot of women, transformed by the crimson whorls into one of the Northras tribesmen. Cieara joined Javvik and Daniel where they stood to the side, the warlord to oversee the trial. "Good work, maur sethar." Daniel whispered, clasping her shoulder gently as they watched. Cieara glanced up at him, eyes twinkling in the dancing firelights.

"Thanks, Danny!" she replied, then turned back to watch as Javvik began to speak. "Delana, daughter of Ranulf, and Pietr, son of Gardner. You are to be judged in the eyes of the gods." His hand sliced down, the signal to begin.

"You bitch, I'm gonna kill you!" Pietr shouted as he moved forward, ham-fist arcing toward her chin. Having dropped into a light crouch, Delana sidestepped easily, bringing a knee up into his lower stomach, and her elbow down on the back of his neck as he bent forward with a croaked gasp. Dancing away, her foot shot out and connected with his backside, sending him reeling into the circle of barbarians. Pietr was roughly shoved back into the circle, where he again charged Delana, who ducked under his wild swing and slammed her own fist into his stomach. She winced as she rolled to the side to avoid a kick, coming back into a crouch easily. Compared to the trainers Fiona had her working with Pietr was a lumbering ox, huffing as he turned toward her.

"Get him De!" Cieara shouted out, nearly hopping in place as she watched the fight. All around the warriors were taking up her enthusiasm, many banging fists on their shields as they yelled support. Pietr's wife screamed in terror, trying to get to her husband, and had to be physically restrained by her guard.

Delana leaped up as Pietr came at her, her boot almost connecting with his nose, grazing the tip as he jerked back quickly. She landed lightly, but was turned away from him. She realized her mistake as a heavy fist hammered into her side. She cried out in pain staggering away, and a second blow sent her to the ground. "You stupid bitch!" Pietr roared as he kicked her side, sending her into the air for a split-second from the force of the blow, and then he reached down and yanked her up by her hair. He was nearly incoherent with anger, his fist rising to hit her again. Cieara also cried out in anger, and now she had to be restrained by Daniel from running to her friend's aid.

She would not have made it in time. A glint of steel, a small dagger drawn from her boot, and Delana's fist punched up to drive the blade into Pietr's crotch. The man's eyes crossed in sudden pain, and he released her hair as he staggered back, both hands moving to cover his injured groin. Ignoring the howls from the barbarians and Pietr's family Delana slowly rose, tossing the dagger aside as she slowly moved forward, holding her side where he had kicked her. Pietr had slowly sunk to one knee, and she insured that a heavy blow to his cheek sent him to the ground. A vicious kick to his groin forced a scream from him, and he rolled in agony on the ground.

Going to one knee, Delana jerked him to his back, her aqua-green eyes alight with rage and pain as she raised a hand to strike him, holding it over her shoulder as she glared at him. Pietr stared at her, his own eyes glazing over in pain, a soft whimper coming from the bully-boy. The gathered Northras were still roaring, demanding blood, but it was cool raindrops that jerked her back into motion, smashing him back to the ground. She stood over him for a moment, chest heaving as she gulped in welcome air, the screams of the Gardner women and din of the barbarians barely registering on her consciousness. Rain fell in increasing strength as she finally turned toward the waiting Javvik and DeAuster's, the bloody sworls swiftly disappearing in the fall of rain.

"Commander, do you have any Acolytes here?" The warlord nodded, and she looked back down to Pietr. "Give this piece of trash to them then." She spit on the fallen Pietr, and then slowly staggered forward, to be swept away by Cieara into the crowd as two warriors moved up to grab Pietr's shoulders and haul him to his feet.

Away from the farmhouse, where Daniel and Javvik was finishing the job of tallying the find of weapons, Cieara and Delana sat on a fallen tree at the edge of the forest. The young blonde's head lay in her friends lap, tears mingling with the rain falling on the two as Delana finally let her grief come out, Cieara's hand gently stroking wet bangs as she comforted her friend.

The following morning, many of the inhabitants of the village gathered in the town square in front of the small building that served as a town hall and prison. Javvik had stationed several warriors around the square, just in case, but he did not expect trouble from the townspeople. The people of Torrence, after the initial shock of the lightning-strike that decimated the small garrison and subsequent occupation, had come to begrudgingly accept the barbarians. The gold they spent for food and goods to stock the small tent-garrison was even more welcome.

The Gardner men, minus Pietr, had been lined up on the porch, Gustav having been reunited with his family after they had been brought to town. Both were in chains, and a burly Northras stood silently behind each. The Gardner women and children sat on a small wagon to the side of the town hall, also under heavy guard. The haughty women sat silently, aware of the many hostile glances from the crowd. The family had never been popular, having lorded their fortunes above the rest of the village, and now they were on the receiving end.

The crowd quieted as the door opened and Clarence DeHart, burgomiester of Torrence, stepped onto the porch, Daniel moving up to stand beside him at the railing. DeHart nodded, and then spoke up. "Citizens of Torrence, I have been given the newest dictates and laws of the realm." That sent a nervous buzzing through the villagers, for the family name of the new ruler of Mercivya held an even darker reputation than the tribes of the highlands. The current generations had grown up under the pall of Gharnholme, and stories abounded of the attempt by the church of Leorne and Valiaene to reclaim the keep hidden by the low mounts and forest to the northwest.

"Fellow citizens," DeHart continued, the able politician looking about the crowd slowly. "Our new lord has decreed a time of celebration for the peoples of Mercivya in this time of change." He smiled, happy to relate the missive Daniel and Cieara had delivered the day before. "For the next two months, no taxes will be collected from the people, so that they may share in this new beginning." The crowd was quiet for a moment, as the enormity of that news sank in. For years now the tax caravan had ever been a hated sight, the required payments bleeding most dry. Then, slowly, with one, and then another, clapping began, and quickly the entire square was filled with shouts and cheers.

Turning, he motioned to the hereto-silent Daniel. "I present to you, prince-regent of the realm, Daniel DeAuster!" Daniel stepped up, smiling lightly as he waited for the crowd to die down. Well, here we go.

"People of Torrence, We hope this is the beginning of a new era." Not used to speaking in front of an entire crowd, the young man swallowed, before he continued. "The new laws as ratified by the rulers of Mercivya are fair to all, singling out no one." Blue eyes moved to the two prisoners, to which he pointed. "Even to those who would fight the ways of change."

"Sarlis Gardner" DeHart said, his voice harder than before as he stepped up again. "You and your family have been found guilty of giving aid to refugees and rebels of the state." The words sounded strange coming from the small-town mayor, as he read from the paper he held.

"We aint done nothi?"Sarlis started to rant again, but a hand clamping down on his shoulder stopped him cold with its strong squeeze.

"The weapons and armor found in your barn was proof enough." DeHart shot back, the paper wadded in his fingers. "The fact that several of your so-called "guards" wore emblems of the Urevan family added to that."

"Normally, the punishment for this would be death." Daniel said coolly, bringing another muttered rush from the crowd. "However," he continued, "In the spirit of the day, I am setting aside that punishment." The elder Gardner's face took on a measure of his customary arrogance, until he heard Daniel's next words. "You are hereby stripped of all lands and possessions. Your home will now be the garrison of Javvik's warband, and your lands, including the mines and cattle, will be given to the city."

"You can't do that!" Sarlis cried out, as his son looked on in stunned silence. The women in the wagon were alternately listening in horror and crying softly, as Daniel laid out the sentence. "That's my land, my things!"

"I can do it, and have done it!" Daniel snapped, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Unless you want to share the fate of your murdering son?" A pointed reminder of Pietr's absence. "It is done."

As he and Burgomiester DeHart stepped back, Javvik's warriors forced the still-chained Sarlis and Gustav to the wagon. They would escort the family safely out of town and down the road that ultimately led toward the southern border with Malirid. Many of the crowd followed the wagon to the edge of the city, jeering the Gardner's and their fall, laughing all the more at the threats Sarlis hurled back at them.

(Written with help from Daniel. Thank much!)