Eirathem's bottom ached fiercely.  He sat upon the ground squirming as he continually adjusted his position.  He scowled at the speaker telling today's tales, resentment burning in his chest.

The speaker, Rhacmidon, the leader of the snake-masters of the valley, seemed oblivious of Eirathem's ire.  Though his blond hair was braided and fell to just above his waist, the man still reminded Eirathem of a proud lion.  He wore leather ankle bracelets and a simple leather loin-cloth that fell to mid-thigh.  He was tall and lean compared to the shorter stockier Munde audience that had gathered to hear the storytelling. His bonded, a large diamond-headed snake with contrasting red stripes was draped around his shoulders. The man had a long staff made out of logwood, a common tree from the southern forest of Wudui'n Rhaciu, the Forest of snakes. 

"Today," began Rhacmidon, "I tell you the tale of Mara, one of the three maidens of the Fremde people that saved our world."

A hush fell over the Munde. 

“In the beginning, our world was populated by a tall willowy people called the Fremde. It is said that the Creator, Sibris, gave them the ears of the fox and the heart of the wolf.  And he bestowed upon them the gift of Magic when the world was young."

"Sibris gave them three tenets: love Him, love others, and care for the great world they had been given.  He left the Laerahndseli to watch over our world and guide the Fremde.

"But in time, the Fremde forgot Sibris and his tenets.  They forgot to care for each other and their world.  And thus the world was dying.

"Wysda, along with her sisters, asked the Laerahndseli to save our world.  But the Laerahndseli had a rule, and that rule was that all great magic had its price.  Each of the maidens was required to make a sacrifice.  Mara's sacrifice was to lose her beauty.  She became short, brown, and wrinkled."

"When Mara saw the brown, wrinkled skin of her arm, she ran to a cave to weep.  The Laerahndsel of Earth followed her. 

"After Mara quit arguing with the Laerahndsel, dried her tears, and agreed to allow the Laerahndsel to help her, she accomplished many things.  She discovered the plecora, a great worm who helped her dig the caves that exist even today.  The caves were used to contain those who had forgotten the tenets of Sibris.  Some of those contained great evil within them.  They were locked away so they could harm no other."

"And later," added Rhacmidon, "she found Wysdadraca resting deep within the earth.  And so the dragons came to us and began to bond with boys.  They were but the first of the creatures found that could bond with Myende children."

"Never forget," stressed the leader of the snake masters.  "It was the Munde who came first, not the Myende.  The Myende race are the descendants of Munde who live well.  That is why some of you even now have magical children, even though you have no magic of your own.

“But the time came when Mara grew tired. She fell asleep, and there was no one to ensure the children she had adopted were following her wisdom. They accidentally unsealed the great evil that Mara and the Guardian of earth had worked so hard to seal away.”

“At the time,” continued Rhacmidon, “thirteen unbonded dragons were feeding off the fire the evil produced. The great evil escaped into their bellies. Those dragons bonded with the thirteen Myende boys, who grew to the men who sealed Thiracon’n, the well that had been used to save the world. The dragons and all but one of the men died, and the great evil within them was released back into the world.

“One man survived and made his way back across the mountain to become the first Emperor of Myencihn. And my ancestors were trapped here, in this Valley that is now our home.”

Eirathem jumped up and stalked away from the circle before the man could say anymore.  He pulled at the leather bands on his wrists that prevented him from using the magic that resided in him. He hated that particular tale about his ancestors.  For Eirathem was the direct descendant of the first Emperor of Myencihn.  He was sure everyone knew.

It wasn't fair.  Rhacmidon could have his snake, but Eirathem couldn't commune with his dragon.  Eirathem loved his dragon.  She had told him that her children were being trapped in Myencihn, so they couldn't bond with the boys meant for them.  So Eirathem had tried to rescue them.  When he failed, his dragon had brought him here, to this Valley in the south of the continent of Annea. She had abandoned him, and Eirathem missed her dearly. He reached for her in his mind. She answered immediately, of course.

“Go,” she said, “Do the work of your hands as the Munde must, and show Rhacmidon you will obey. He shall teach you what you need to know to free my children.”

Eirathem turned, automatically obeying. It was then that he spotted her in the forest. Four-foot tall, the color of the earth, with pointed ears like the fox, and wrinkled brown skin like leather. She was dressed in a brown tunic that fell to her knees and had a simple staff almost as tall as she was. She was staring straight at him.

Mara was real.

Eirathem's bottom ached fiercely.  He sat upon the ground squirming as he continually adjusted his position.  He scowled at the speaker telling today's tales, resentment burning in his chest.

The speaker, Rhacmidon, the leader of the snake-masters of the valley, seemed oblivious of Eirathem's ire.  Though his blond hair was braided and fell to just above his waist, the man still reminded Eirathem of a proud lion.  He wore leather ankle bracelets and a simple leather loin-cloth that fell to mid-thigh.  He was tall and lean compared to the shorter stockier Munde audience that had gathered to hear the storytelling. His bonded, a large diamond-headed snake with contrasting red stripes was draped around his shoulders. The man had a long staff made out of logwood, a common tree from the southern forest of Wudui'n Rhaciu, the Forest of snakes. 

"Today," began Rhacmidon, "I tell you the tale of Mara, one of the three maidens of the Fremde people that saved our world."

A hush fell over the Munde. 

“In the beginning, our world was populated by a tall willowy people called the Fremde. It is said that the Creator, Sibris, gave them the ears of the fox and the heart of the wolf.  And he bestowed upon them the gift of Magic when the world was young."

"Sibris gave them three tenets: love Him, love others, and care for the great world they had been given.  He left the Laerahndseli to watch over our world and guide the Fremde.

"But in time, the Fremde forgot Sibris and his tenets.  They forgot to care for each other and their world.  And thus the world was dying.

"Only in Dumaira, on the other side of the Cwildbeorg mountain range, did they follow Sibris' tenets.  As I told you last night, Wysda was the first of the three maidens. She was the one who cared for Thiracon'n, the magical portal that brought the beings, plants, and animals to replenish the world of Middengard.

"Wysda, along with her sisters, asked the Laerahndseli to save our world.  But the Laerahndseli had a rule, and that rule was that all great magic had its price.  Each of the maidens was required to make a sacrifice.  Mara's sacrifice was to lose her beauty.  She became short, brown, and wrinkled."

"When Mara saw the brown, wrinkled skin of her arm, she ran to a cave to weep.  The Laerahndsel of Earth followed her. 

"After Mara quit arguing with the Laerahndsel, dried her tears, and agreed to allow the Laerahndsel to help her, she accomplished many things.  She discovered the plecora, a great worm who helped her dig the caves that exist even today.  The caves were used to contain those who had forgotten the tenets of Sibris.  Some of those contained great evil within them.  They were locked away so they could harm no other."

"And later," added Rhacmidon, "she found Wysdadraca resting deep within the earth.  And so the dragons came to us and began to bond with boys.  They were but the first of the creatures found that could bond with Myende children."

"Never forget," stressed the leader of the snake masters.  "It was the Munde who came first, not the Myende.  The Myende race are the descendants of Munde who live well.  That is why some of you even now have magical children, even though you have no magic of your own.

“But the time came when Mara grew tired. She fell asleep, and there was no one to ensure the children she had adopted were following her wisdom. They accidentally unsealed the great evil that Mara and the Guardian of earth had worked so hard to seal away.”

“At the time,” continued Rhacmidon, “thirteen unbonded dragons were feeding off the fire the evil produced. The great evil escaped into their bellies. Those dragons bonded with the thirteen Myende boys, who grew to the men who sealed Thiracon’n, the well that had been used to save the world. The dragons and all but one of the men died, and the great evil within them was released back into the world.

“One man survived and made his way back across the mountain to become the first Emperor of Myencihn. And my ancestors were trapped here, in this Valley that is now our home.”

Eirathem jumped up and stalked away from the circle before the man could say anymore.  He pulled at the leather bands on his wrists that prevented him from using the magic that resided in him. He hated that particular tale about his ancestors.  For Eirathem was the direct descendant of the first Emperor of Myencihn.  He was sure everyone knew.

It wasn't fair.  Rhacmidon could have his snake, but Eirathem couldn't commune with his dragon.  Eirathem loved his dragon.  She had told him that her children were being trapped in Myencihn, so they couldn't bond with the boys meant for them.  So Eirathem had tried to rescue them.  When he failed, his dragon had brought him here, to this Valley in the south of the continent of Annea. She had abandoned him, and Eirathem missed her dearly. He reached for her in his mind. She answered immediately, of course.

“Go,” she said, “Do the work of your hands as the Munde must, and show Rhacmidon you will obey. He shall teach you what you need to know to free my children.”

Eirathem turned, automatically obeying. It was then that he spotted her in the forest. Four-foot tall, the color of the earth, with pointed ears like the fox, and wrinkled brown skin like leather. She was dressed in a brown tunic that fell to her knees and had a simple staff almost as tall as she was. She was staring straight at him.

Mara was real.

Later that evening, Eirathem surveyed his lands from a window of the stronghold. The fields were bare, having been picked clean to feed the elite in the Emperor’s City. The Munde, slaves to the former Emperor, hid in the forest, starving.

When taking over the compound he had ousted the gaggle of Munde women who had served in the former Emperor’s bed. Only one remained: a child that looked to be barely seven. She eyed him from a corner, clutching the doll he had given her. The few sharp stings Eirathem had given the girl’s legs when she disobeyed had been enough to convince her to obey him.

There was a shrill rap at the door and Eirathem turned, bellowing “Enter.”

Two men walked in slowly. One was the newly appointed counselor, the other the only remaining overseer. Eirathem strode to the desk.

“Come,” he said tersely.

The men approached. Eirathem pushed a scroll towards the overseer, tapping at two figures with the butt of his wand.

“These are the number of Munde who died upon these lands in the last year. It is almost as many as those who lived. I would like to know how you would change this. I have yet to have an overseer give me an appropriate answer.”

“I think you will like not what I have to say,” admitted the man named Nelaer.

“Continue,” said Eirathem coldly.

“If you want them to live,” he said, “they must be fed adequately and their health cared for.”

“And how would you accomplish this?” asked Eirathem.

Nelaer’s tongue darted out, wetting his lips. He grew quiet and glanced at the counselor, a man by the name of Niven. The overseer finally said, “In the south, amongst the villages on this side of Denu’n Rhaciu, you will find what remains of the Thirteenth House. Should you really wish to aid the Munde of this land, there are those who would serve as healers and overseers. However, they will not allow the Munde to be starved, beaten, and abused.”

Eirathem nodded. He said, “I walked this land for many months unseen before challenging the former Emperor. I watched it all. It escaped not my notice that you alone, of all the overseers, rarely used that whip that is at your side.”

“I have never found that cutting open a man’s back makes him work harder or be more obedient, “ said Nelaer softly.

“And that is why I chose to save you for the last to question. Should you prove yourself worthy, you shall be Forsahndon, my head overseer. But know this,” Eirathem said while pointing the butt of his wand at the man, “I have two rules regarding my Munde: dead Munde are impractical, and hurt Munde are impractical. I understand from time to time discipline may be needed, but the Munde of this land need not suffer needlessly.”

Nelaer nodded, “Aye, Casari.”

Eirathem flicked his wand and a scroll came flying out of the bag he had brought from his dragon earlier. It landed on the table and he opened it.

“These are the plans for my lands. No more will the food produced here go to fill the bellies of the elite. The Emperor’s Great City will be dismantled. If they want a city they can build on the land of another. Soon, those dragon riders who escaped the former emperor will arrive from Puethion. They will be in charge of its dismantlement. They will also aid you,” he said motioning to Nelaer, “in getting the aid you need. We will move towards there gathering the Munde and dismantling the buildings as we go.”

“Know this,” repeated Eirathem as he trained his wand on the counselor, “this will happen. Any who defy or stand against me will be crushed. So when my riders arrive, I suggest you have one take you to this city, and I further suggest you inform them it is in their best interest to leave peaceably. For I will do what I must to reclaim my lands.”

Niven nodded gravely.

“But for now,” said the Casari, “Get out there and get those Munde out of the trees and get them healed and whole as best you may until help arrives. Dismissed.”

The two men left slowly. Afterwards, Eirathem motioned to the child, “Come here,” he said.

She rose and slowly approached him. He led her to the terrace. He pointed to a stool, and she sat quietly. He sat in the chair next to it. As he sat, the wooden wand grew into a great staff. He ground it into the earth, releasing a spell so all in the vicinity could hear him speak with the child. “What is Casariu’n first rule?” he asked the child softly.

“Dead Munde are im-”

“Impractical” he finished for her. “And Casariu’n second rule?”

"Hurt Munde are impractical,” she said, getting the word correct this time.

“And what does Maestir want of his Munde?” asked Eirathem.

“Do as we are told,” she answered.

“And what will happen to those who obey Maestir?” he asked.

“Full bellies,” she replied, showing what was most important to her.

“And what else?” he asked pulling gently at the new dress he had acquired for her to wear.

“Clothes that fit,” she replied with eyes that glowed.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“Toys,” she said clutching the doll.

"And you shall help the Munde learn Casariu’n Rules so you can keep that doll, shall you not?”

“Aye, Maestir,” she said softly, clutching her precious toy even more tightly.

Eirathem said nothing else, banging his staff upon the ground to end the spell. That night, in the forest, there were Munde men looking towards the compound, in anxiety for the child he had taken. And that was precisely why he had kept the girl. It would ensure their obedience until they learned to trust him.

After a time he rose, motioning for the child to follow him. She clutched her doll close, peeking at him over the doll’s head.

“You have behaved well today,” Eirathem said softly, “You may bring it along.”

The child jumped up and ran to him and grabbed his belt. The Casari led her to the next room, where he had her lie on a mat he had prepared for the night. Securing the room, he took to his own bed. Tomorrow would be a long day as well.

Banim trudged behind Nelaer, dreading the meeting to come. He kept his eyes on the man’s boots as they walked. They stopped and he tensed as he heard the cold voice of the Casari say, “Leave us.”

Banim stood, trembling, his eyes firmly placed on the ground.

“You may think you know why I have called you,” said Eirathem, “I assure you, you do not. You shall attend to me as mundoneu, my Munde man. If you prove yourself worthy you shall be a great deal more. You shall go out into those trees and retrieve the munda which clings to you and any children you care for and return to me.”

“I have no munda, Maestir,” denied Banim. Sweat poured down his neck. The man couldn’t know about Lyra!

“You dare to lie to me!” said the Casari harshly. “Well, I shall give you a very good reason never to do so again. Remove your shirt.”

Banim gulped convulsively, slowly lifting his arms with difficulty to remove the filthy object. The Casari had some sort of strange leather contraption on his arm. He flexed his wrist, and a wooden wand slipped into his hand. Eirathem flicked it, and all the items upon the desk floated over to sit in a nearby chair.

“Bend over the desk,” demanded the man.

Banim walked slowly and stiffly, and bowed over the desk obediently, clutching the edges. He closed his eyes, bracing himself.

“Why were you whipped?” demanded Eirathem

“To show me my place, Maestir,” said Banim, careful to keep any sign of resentment out of his voice.

The Casari’s voice resounded in the room. “Forsahndon!”

 Boots clicked on the floor. “It had to have happened before, Casari,” the overseer said.

“Deal with it,” ground out Eirathem.

“Aye, Casari,” Nelaer sighed.

Banim flinched as a cloth was put on his back. It felt cool on his battered skin, and suddenly the pain of the cuts was gone.

“And now,” said Eirathem, “I shall show you why you shall not need to use that whip at your side again. This man has dared to lie to me. You will hold his hands.”

“Aye Casari,” said the overseer. He grabbed Banim’s wrists, holding them down firmly against the hard wood.

Banim forced himself to lie still and strained his ears to hear. Then he bellowed in pain as a lance of fire spread across his shoulders. He fought the overseer fiercely trying anything to get free and put out the fire in his back. The pain was suddenly gone as fast as it had come. Banim sobbed and sagged against the table in relief.

“That was but a taste of my second lash,” said Eirathem. “It burns like fire and lasts three candle-marks if I don’t grant mercy as I just did. I assure you, when we let him up he will go out to those woods and tell every single man he knows that they don’t want to be sent here to receive that lash.”

That was the truth, Banim thought resentfully.

“Let go of his hands,” Eirathem ordered. “Now you stand up, keep those feet flat on the floor, those hands at your sides and lift that head of yours.”

As soon as he was released Banim slowly pushed up off the desk, and turned to face the Casari. He kept his hands stiffly held at his sides and raised his face to gaze at the man who was now his master.

“When I order you to attend to me that is just how you shall do it,” said the Casari emphatically. “You shall not cower before me; you shall face me like a man. And do not dare ever lie to me again. Now go out into those trees and get that pregnant munda and any children that cling to you and get them in here so they will be safe whilst you attend to the duties I give you. Go!”

Banim gulped and spun, spying the door and rushing from the room. He walked quickly down the corridor, his eyes darting around as he searched for the way out of the building. Finally, he found it and trudged out to find his family.

A short while later he walked back to the Emperor’s stronghold, a sobbing woman clinging to one hand, his youngest son Kendel gripping the other. Behind him plodded his oldest son Bellonien.

At the door of the stronghold, Nelaer waited. “This is all of them?” he asked.

“Aye, overseer,” said Banim obediently.

The man turned and opened the door and Banim reluctantly followed.

Soon Banim stood before the Casari, head bowed. Lyra was still sobbing quietly, and his youngest son’s hand trembled in his.

“How old are the boys?” demanded Eirathem.

“I know n-not Maestir,” whispered Banim.

“I told you not one hour ago,” said the Casari tersely, “That head of yours is to be raised and you are to face me like a man. If necessary, I will have the overseer fit a collar upon your neck until you learn to keep that head of yours raised.”

Banim’s head popped up then, “Aye, Maestir,” he agreed.

“Now,” said Eirathem, “You shall teach those two boys to stand before their Maestir just as I have taught you.”

“Aye Maestir,” said Banim again.

He turned and knelt down, facing his young son. The boy was fidgeting. “Stand still,” he admonished. “Keep your hands at your sides and look up at Maestir.”

The boy gave a jerky nod. Banim stood and approached Bellonien, telling him the same thing in a soft voice. The boy glared at him but obeyed. Banim returned to his place in line, taking Lyra’s hand.

The Casari asked sternly, “Forsahndon?”

“Aye, Casari,” responded Nelaer.

“I prefer my Munde to be clean. See to it.” He pointed to the girl that sat playing with her doll in a corner. “Her as well,” he ordered.

“Aye, Casari,” responded the overseer.

But before they left the room, Eirathem said sternly, “The doll remains here.”

“She needs a bath,” whined the girl.

Eirathem crossed his arms. “If you show the others you know how a proper Munde girl is to act the toy will remain upon the desk. If you cannot, the toy goes up on the shelf and all shall see just how bad those little legs of yours can sting.”

The girl gulped, then obediently walked over and handed Eirathem the doll. He set it on the desk. “Go!” he said harshly.

The girl ran over and quickly took the overseer’s hand.

“This way,” said Nelaer calmly as he walked out the door with the girl, Banim, and his family following

As they walked down the hall Nelaer admonished the girl gently, “You know better, Taniva.”

She huffed. “Aye, Fehrahndon” she agreed, “But she really does need a bath.”

The man just chuckled and shook his head.

Banim followed closely, rushing to keep up with the overseer and keep sight of the girl. The hallway was filled with small tables with vases and statues. Paintings of men and dragons lined the walls. Soon Nelaer stopped and opened a door.

They entered a large room with several bathing pools. Steam was rising in the air. The overseer had his wand in his hand and flicked it gently. Banim flinched when the door swung shut.

Nelaer looked at Banim seriously. “Now you know I have never done as the other overseers. So you should not fear me looking upon those you hold dear. But I must bathe and inspect all. Because if any of you have bruises or marks upon you and the Casari finds out, he will be most angry.”

He pointed at Banim, Kendel, and Bellonien. “You three will go sit against the wall.”

Banim opened his mouth to object, but then his mouth closed with a click, and he obediently took the hands of the two boys and led them over, ordering them to sit before he sat between them.

The head overseer led a whimpering Lyra to a chair. “Sit,” he ordered gently.

She obeyed, and he led Taniva to the pool. “I like the bigger one better,” the girl whined.

“You shall bathe in this one,” the overseer said more sternly, “and if you misbehave, I will tell the Casari and you will lose your doll for the night.”

The girl gulped then. “Aye, Fehrahndon,” she said softly.

The man turned and looked at the two boys. “You two shall bow those heads of yours,” he ordered sternly.

The boys obeyed immediately. Nelaer lifted Taniva’s dress over her head and threw it in a basket before telling her to slip the simple linen shorts she wore off. He gave a perfunctory check of her front and back before saying, “In you go. Go under and get your hair wet,”

When she popped back up in the water, he poured something in his hand from a pitcher and began massaging it into the child’s hair. “You should enjoy the pool while you can,” he told the child. “Do you remember what is going to happen?”

“We are moving,” said Taniva softly.

“Aye,” agreed the overseer, “And we will take the buildings down as we go. Who is moving?”

“All the Munde,” she replied.

He tilted her head up then rinsing her hair. As he washed her back, he said, “Let’s see if you remember Casariu’n Rules.”

“Dead Munde are impractical,” she recited.

“And?” asked the overseer as he began to wash one arm.

“Hurt Munde are impractical,” she said.

“Do you remember the third one?” Nelaer asked, “He taught it to you just today.”

“Happy Munde are pro…” she began.

“Productive Munde.” He finished for her.

He reached down in the water picking up a leg. The child giggled as he washed her foot. After he washed both feet, he soaped the cloth, handing it to her. “Wash the rest,” he ordered gently.

As he dried her, he asked, “How is your new Maestir going to make the Munde happy?”

“Full bellies and clothes that fit and toys,” she replied.

He picked up a nightgown off a nearby table and pulled it over the child’s head before gently turning her to brush out her long hair.

“And what is going to happen when we get to where we are moving?”

“Houses,” she said softly.

“Aye, but there will be much more than that. There will be houses for the Munde, fields for the crops, and places to make everything the Munde need. What must the Munde do in return?”

“Do as we are told,” she said.

“Do you remember what else?”

“Feed Maestir and the dragon riders,” she answered.

“Very good,” said the overseer approvingly. “Now go sit, so I can help the others.”

The child ran to the wall then, sliding down to sit obediently.

Nelaer pulled his wand out of his pocket then and tapped the pool. It took a few moments to empty and refill. He approached Lyra. “Now you just saw her bathed, and yours will be much the same. I know it will be embarrassing, but I must check your health,”

The woman whimpered but did not fight as he helped her to her feet and lifted the filthy dress over her head before inspecting her front and back. “Where did the bruises come from?” he demanded when he saw the purple bruises that littered her arms and chest.

“I left Banim’s sight,” she admitted. “Another got hold of me.”

The overseer walked over to the table where he picked up a pouch, emptying the contents into the water. “Those are just healing herbs, so we can get rid of those bruises. Now I’m going to point my wand at you, but it won’t hurt. I’m just checking your health and that of the child inside of you.”

Nelaer pointed his wand and yellow light seemed to surround Lyra. The overseer sighed. Then he aimed his wand again, Banim’s eyes widened as he saw a shadowy picture of a baby floating in water with a cord attached to its belly.

The overseer nodded then, and said, “I’ll help you into the bath. I’ll wash your hair and back, and then your feet as I imagine they’ll be hard to reach with that belly of yours.”

And he did just as he said he would, handing her the washcloth in the end as he had the child. He helped her out of the bath and dried her efficiently before putting a gown over her head. He turned her and brushed her hair just as he had Taniva’s.

He flicked his wand and the chair floated over to sit next to the child. He led the woman over, ordering her to sit. “Now both of you keep those heads bowed while I wash the others.”

He came over, ordering Banim’s youngest son to rise. Kendel's bath was accomplished quickly and the boy dressed in a nightshirt before being ordered to go sit next to Taniva.

When he came for Bellonien the boy objected loudly. “If you fight me,” said the overseer steadily, “I’ll force a potion down your throat that forces you to obey my every command. And then, I’ll tell the Casari you would not obey and he will most certainly order you punished.”

Banim, remembering that awful lash, said sternly, “Do as he says Bellonien.”

The boy relented then, though he glared through the whole procedure. Finally Banim was called over. He fought not at all, though it was embarrassing being viewed naked and bathed as a child.

The next surprise for Banim came when it was time to serve the evening meal. After they were all clean, the overseer led them to a huge kitchen where they were ordered to make a stew for everyone to eat.

Banim’s stomach rumbled as they prepared the food, but he didn’t dare take even a bite of carrot, much less the savory smelling meat that sizzled as his wife cooked it.

The stew was done, and the family fidgeted, as they waited for their new masters to return. Nelaer had told Banim that he, the Casari, and one other would attend the meal, so Banim had directed his son to set three places at the huge table that was in the middle of the room.

Taniva walked over, showing Bellonien how to set out the china plates and silverware. She looked at the boy strangely, then started counting on her fingers. “There are eight of us,” she announced.

Banim walked over and knelt in front of the girl. “Slaves eat not with their masters,” he said to the girl gently.

The girl looked at him and said, “But I ate with Maestir last night. He’s not like our old master. You shall see.” She flounced off to the corner to play with her doll.

Banim sighed. The girl was going to have a hard lesson tonight. A few moments later the Casari walked in and looked at the table. He glared at Banim.

Banim gulped hard.

“Why are there only three places set?” Eirathem ground out.

“I tried to tell them, Maestir,” said Taniva from her corner.

“How many of us are there?” asked the Casari pointedly.

“Eight Maestir,” replied Banim, as his gaze fell to the floor.

“Then you shall provide eight places as this table. I see no reason for her,” Eirathem said as he pointed at Lyra with the butt of his wand, “to be taxed with the clean-up of two tables.”

“Aye, Maestir,” said Banim as he rushed to direct Bellonien to help him set five more places at the table.

He stood trembling when he was finished. But the Casari ignored him, calling Taniva to him. When the girl took his hand, he said, “Forsahndon, you will sit with the others.”

“Aye, Casari,” the man said calmly as he ordered Banim to come to him.

Banim slowly went to the man, who directed him to take a seat at the table. As he sat, Banim spied the girl at the other end. The Casari was helping her to sit, and said to her, “You shall show the others how a proper Munde girl acts when seated with Maestir, shall you not?”

“Aye, Maestir,” she promised as she sat down and put her hands in her lap.

Banim copied her movements, and Eirathem said to her, “Should you behave, Maestir will tell you a tale before we sleep.”

“Will it have dragons?” asked the child.

“Aye, it most certainly will,” said the Casari.

Banim’s eyes widened as the Casari filled her plate before filling his own. Banim was so engrossed in Taniva, he almost missed the fact that the overseer had placed a small portion of stew on his plate, as well as the rest of his family’s.

The Casari sat, looking at their end of the table. “Why have you given them so little to eat?” he demanded of the overseer.

Nelaer pointed to Taniva and said, “She has been inside the stronghold and he fed those inside quite well. However, all others have been starved. I fear if I give them too much we will end up doing more harm than good.”

The Casari nodded tersely. “Then you shall adjust the number of tasks you expect them to complete to match their current strength.”

“Aye, Casari,” said Nelaer calmly.

Nelaer said softly, “Eat slowly. I know you are hungry, but don’t stuff yourselves.

Banim glanced down the table to see which spoon Taniva had chosen. Copying her he picked up a spoon and started taking small careful bites. He didn’t want to throw all this good food back up. The stew was delicious. Lyra was a good cook. He glanced at his sons. The overseer would grab their hands from time to time, stopping them from shoveling the food down quickly.

They ate in silence for a time, until the Casari asked the overseer, “Have you considered how we shall feed them all?”

“Aye, Casari,” said the man soberly. He licked his lips and glanced several times at the counselor who had come in a few minutes after the meal started and seated himself on the other side of Eirathem.

“Do not look upon me so,” said Niven calmly. “I am quite well aware you must be of the Thirteenth House. While under the former emperor that was a reason for shame, I do not believe it to be so any longer.”

The overseer nodded. He placed his attention on the Casari and said, “When you disappeared...”

“You mean,” interrupted Eirathem coolly, “when my father attempted to sacrifice me when I was but two years old.”

“Aye Casari,” Nelaer agreed. “A black dragon came to the Emperor, who was residing in Plonia. He abandoned that state and came here. When it became clear to the overseers he was not returning to recompense them, they abandoned it as well.”

“The Munde there feared the return of the Emperor, and one of them escaped and traveled south to one of the villages this side of Wudui’n Rhaciu. They begged the mages there for help.”

“Now, as I have told you, the former Emperor cursed us so that we could hold no land. The snake masters of those villages had taken us in, though they made us prove we were willing to learn the ways of old. When the man arrived telling of the plight of the Munde there, they sent snake-masters and mages to help.

“I have been told,” Nelaer said, “the Munde were told that in exchange for their help they were to provide any excess food to them as payment. I believe should we go there, we will find there is plenty of food and supplies that could be transported here.

“So you are telling me you know the ways of old,” said Eirathem quietly, “and that wand you have is made of your own hands.”

“Aye, Casari,” said the man soberly.

“Why did you leave the south?” demanded Eirathem.

The overseer shrugged. “I was young and foolish,” he said bluntly, “and I wanted to find a way to restore honor to our house. So I ran away, coming to the great City of the Myende in an attempt to find a way to restore our lands. Once here, when I saw the condition of the Munde, I could not leave.”

“I am quite sure,” he continued soberly, “The Emperor was aware of my origins. He seemed to take great pleasure in ordering me to punish the Munde severely.”

Quiet descended on the table for a few moments. Then Eirathem said, “Mundoneu, Caiadon, our head dragon rider, is about to arrive. You shall quietly get up and set another place at the table.”

Banim’s head popped up. “Aye, Maestir,” he said as he quickly got up, and set a place to sit next to Taniva.

And indeed, a few moments later a tall man strode into the room. His hair was dark brown, pulled into a ponytail. He wore a red leather tunic and breeches. Fingerless gloves adorned his hands.

The Casari rose immediately and the two men clasped arms.

“You are looking well, Casari” said Caiadon.

“Have others come with you?” asked Eirathem.

“They are a bit behind me,” admitted the man, “I rose into the air as soon as your dragon informed mine the battle had begun.”

Eirathem snorted and Caiadon said, “I had no doubt you would defeat him. But,” he said, “You have forgotten the warning of Wicahndon’n. You were not to defeat the Emperor, but the dragon he rode.

“Should he die,” began Eirathem.

“No,” said Caiadon soberly, “It is not a normal dragon. It still lives. Several of the riders gave chase, but he escaped. It will take those longer to arrive.”

Eirathem nodded. “We must make the magic strong here then,” he said.

Banim tensed as the Casari pointed at his end of the table. “This is the condition of the Munde upon my land, and they have been cleaned up a bit.”

Caiadon sighed, “I warned you from a young age how bad it might be,” he said softly.

Eirathem just snorted again and walked back over to his seat, “Come, sup,” he said shortly, “and we will discuss plans.”

Banim took his cue from Taniva and sat quietly, hands in his lap. The boys fidgeted, and Lyra was stiff, staring at the table.

The Casari pointed his wand at the elder rider. “On the morrow,” he began.

“Turn that wand around,” ordered Caiadon in a hard voice.

Eirathem immediately flipped the wand around, then pointed the butt of it at the rider, “In public,” he said tersely, “You will give me the respect that is due me.”

“Aye Casari,” Caiadon said, “I most certainly will. But if they,” he said as he motioned his hand around the table, “are to come to understand that they merely serve a powerful Myendo with a bit of a temper, they need to see one who is not afraid to speak with you normally.

"And I very much doubt, even though it has been a number of years, your reaction would be any different should any come to harm because sparks shoot from that wand of yours when your ire is raised.”

Banim’s eyes grew big. Caiadon looked at the counselor then, “I may speak with him as I do from time to time, for I helped raise him…until he escaped me,” he said with a chuckle. “But make no mistake. I most certainly recognize him as my Casari.”

Niven nodded gravely.

“And should he point his wand at any of you,” continued Caiadon calmly, “respectfully ask him to turn the wand around and he shall do so.”

“Or say staff,” whispered Taniva before ducking her head.

“You have begun to teach this one,” said Caiadon.

Banim’s jaw dropped when his new master put a gentle hand on the girl’s head. “Mundelihtaneu has already begun to learn that should she obey, she needs not to fear Maestir.”

The Casari moved his hand then. “On the morrow,” he began again, “I shall take him,” he said as he pointed the butt of his wand at Niven, “To the great City. He will explain to them it is in their best interest to leave peaceably.

“Whilst I do that you shall take those two,” he said pointing to Nelaer and Banim, “to the Thirteenth House. However,” he said sternly, “whilst we do that someone needs to remain here to supervise the rest.”

“That one,” he said as he pointed the butt of his wand at Bellonien, “Has a bit of a temper, and,” he continued, “had no stern Rider or Rhacmidon to attend to him when he erred. So until I am sure he has learned to control that temper of his he will be supervised.”

Banim held back a shudder with difficulty How did Maestir know about Bellonien?

“I have just the rider for the task,” promised Caiadon sternly.

The boy gulped, bowing his head. “What of the rest of the Munde?” asked Caiadon.

“They hide in the forest starving,” said Eirathem in a hard voice.

“Then whilst we attend to our duties, the remaining riders will begin to draw them out of the trees and begin to get them healed and whole.” said the head rider.

Eirathem nodded. “They will need to be monitored closely.  Unlike him,” he said pointing at Banim, “most of the men believe they can treat the others as harshly as the overseers did them. In particular,” he said as he glared at Caiadon, “they believe they can defile whom they wish at will.”

“We will see to it,” promised Caiadon.

“In addition,” said Eirathem, “they fear admitting those with magic among them due to their ill-treatment. When you find the first, you shall show them they need fear not. I do wish them marked, however, as I plan to train them in the ways of old.”

Caiadon nodded. Nothing else was said and the meal ended in silence. The Casari pointed the butt of his wand at Banim and Bellonien. “You two shall see to clean-up. Your munda shall rest.”

Banim said, “Aye, Maestir,” and began to direct Bellonien to gather the dishes and take them to the sink to be washed.

He was on his way back to get another load, when the Casari roared, “Sit back down!”

Banim’s head popped up and he saw Lyra standing, trying to gather dishes as well. She was about to drop them and was sobbing. He shook his head. The woman didn’t know the meaning of the word rest. He rushed over to her, took the plates, set them down, and led her back to the chair

“You’d best sit,” he said to her softly.

“Raise that head of yours,” ordered Eirathem tersely.

When she did not, Banim put two fingers under her chin to lift her head.

“Your belly is much too big for him to attend to you should you disobey. Therefore, should you ignore my orders that you are to rest it will be his back I take it out on.”

“A-Aye, Maestir,” she stuttered out.

“Tell him,” demanded Eirathem. “Tell him just who showed you to that cave with the extra food.”

“Vasdaon,” she whispered.

“And what did Vasdaon tell you?” demanded the Casari.

“Th-That a new master would c-come and babies would stay w-with their mothers. And that I m-must s-stay healthy s-so the new master could s-show everyone.”

“The creches your former masters will be no more,” said Eirathem firmly. “So you will keep yourself healthy and that child healthy so all will learn.”

“A-Aye, Maestir,” she whispered.

“Eirathem,” said Caiadon sharply from where he stood at the table where they had laid out the plans for Eirathem’s land.

The Casari whirled around glaring at the man.

“I imagine some of the others have begun to arrive,” said the head rider.  "I’d suggest you go battle and release some of that anger and show those riders who do not know of you yet just how powerful the Casari they serve is. How is he,” Caiadon said as he pointed to Bellonien, “to learn to control his temper if his Maestir cannot?”

“Should I do that,” said Eirathem tersely, “My Munde will fear even more.”

“Aye,” agreed Caiadon, “And when my riders begin gathering them from the trees they shall respect our power and act out less and we will have to discipline less.”

Eirathem nodded tersely, storming from the room. Caiadon pointed to Niven then.

“You shall go witness,” he said. “They shall erect a barrier of light blue and so long as you stay outside that you shall not be harmed. Then, when you go to that city on the morrow, you will be able to honestly tell them of the power of the Casari and his riders.”

The counselor nodded, walking a bit more calmly out of the room.

Caiadon surveyed Banim and the others. “Now you all are going to listen to me for a moment. I grew up in Myencihn, so I know just how the Myende of this land normally act and believe. But your new Casari and Maestir did not. So it makes no sense to him why the Munde of this land have lived as they have. Aye, he is angry, but he is not angry at you. If you give him a chance, he will show the Munde of this land a new way to live.”

But Banim did not believe him. As he worked with Bellonien to clean the table and kitchen, dread began to fill him. He couldn’t help jumping every time the earth rumbled and the loud cracks and pops were heard from outside. But finally, the sounds ceased and the ground stopped shaking. The Casari strolled back in, and asked him mildly, “Have you finished?”

His head popped up as he remembered his master’s earlier order to him. “Aye, Maestir,” he said softly.

“Then it is time to sleep. Follow me.”

Banim rushed to the table and helped Lyra up, before calling Kendel to him, and ordering Bellonien to follow. He quickly walked up to his master, who was standing arms folded, waiting. Taniva was standing next to him, clutching his belt with one hand, her doll with the other.

The Casari turned and led them briskly down the hall and to another room. Banim peered in and saw four large mats made of blankets on the floor. The Casari ordered them in and Banim slowly walked inside. He jumped when the door shut with a bang.

Eirathem pointed the butt of his wand at Banim and Lyra. “You two, there,” he said as he pointed to a mat.

Banim obediently let go of his son’s hand and leading Lyra to the mat. He helped her lay down and laid next to her. He looked up to see that his boys were laying on a second mat, and the Casari was leading Taniva to another.

“You behaved well,” the Casari said to the girl. “Lie down and Maestir will tell you the tale.”

When Taniva was settled, Eirathem knelt down on one knee next to her. “This is the tale of the foolish Myende boy and the brave Munde man,” he began.

The girl whined, “You said there would be dragons.”

Banim winced. But the Casari merely folded his arms and glared. “Do you wish to hear the tale?” he asked.

The child closed her mouth, nodding vigorously.”

“Once upon a time,” began Eirathem. “There was a Myende boy with a very bad father who tried to harm him when he was quite small. But the magic inside him saved him, and he fell into some caves under the earth, where a great snake healed him. He lived in the caves for a long time, until he came to a place called the Valley of Snakes.”

“What color was the snake?” asked the girl.

The Casari glared at her again, but said, “The snake was green. Do you wish to hear the tale or not?”

Taniva said, “I want to hear it, Maestir.”

“When the boy arrived in the valley,” continued Eirathem, “the Myende there took him in. But soon after that, a dark brown dragon came, and he bonded with her. He climbed upon her back, and she took him to a land called Puethion, where he began to grow. And he forgot about the caves and the valley.”

“He believed,” continued Eirathem softly, “That it was his dragon that had saved him from the bad father. And when one bonds to a dragon, you can hear them speak in your head.”

“You can?” said the child, eyes wide.

“Aye,” said Eirathem, “and to that boy, his dragon had become like his mother. And she told him she was very sad, for someone had trapped her children so they could not bond with those meant for them. So that boy determined he was going to go save the dragons.”

“In Puethion, it is women who lead," said the Casari.

Banim’s eyes widened.

“And the greatest of them all is called Wicahndon’n,” continued Eirathem. “So the boy went to her and told her he wanted to free the dragons. She told him he was not yet old enough, that he needed to become stronger in his magic.”

“But the foolish Myende boy did not listen. He found a plant that would put everyone to sleep. He went to the kitchen and poured the dried plant in the great pot of stew that had been made. And everyone else ate it and fell into a deep sleep.”

The Casari paused a moment, then spoke. “He sneaked to his dragon and begged her to take him where the dragons were trapped. And,” he sighed, “she did.”

“The foolish Myende boy stood upon the wall of the pit where the dragons were, shooting off spell after spell trying to free them. He was spied there by the brave Munde man.

“The brave man was quite afraid. He had seen evil Myende men feed the dragons tainted meat that kept them docile. He had also seen the boys who bonded with the dragons hurt and killed by his master.”

“That’s awful, Maestir,” said the girl.

“Aye,” said Eirathem, “Even though the Munde man had never been treated with anything other but cruelty, he could not bear to see another boy die.”

“So he grabbed the foolish Myende boy from behind, clamped his arms around him, and dragged him into the trees. The boy dropped his wand in the fight. When the foolish boy would not listen, the man, became exasperated and sat down and pulled the foolish boy over his knee. He smacked his backside with his hand until the boy settled down and agreed to listen.”

“Munde not supposed to touch Myende,” declared Taniva.

“No, they are not, at least not in Myencihn,” said the Casari gravely.

“But you see, the foolish Myende boy had grown up in Puethion, where even Myende children get their backsides smacked should they misbehave. So he thought nothing of what the brave Munde man had done.

“The man took the foolish boy to a hiding place and told him that if he wanted to free the dragons he needed to grow up a bit and get a dragon of his own. Well, the boy told him he did have a dragon, and that when it became dark she would come for him.

“So the man watched over the boy until darkness descended and then led him to a hidden meadow in the forest. I’m sure he watched in awe as the boy rose into the sky as the dragon called him to her back.”

“What happened to the Munde man?” whispered Taniva.

“Well,” said Eirathem gently, “Maestir believes he lives upon this land even today. And when I find him, he shall help the Munde to live a new way. But I imagine,” he said softly, “He will be quite afraid since it is clearly forbidden in Myencihn for a Munde man to lay hands upon a Myende child as he did. So you will help him not be so afraid, will you not?”

“Aye, Maestir,” promised the girl.

“And now,” said Eirathem firmly, “It is time for you to sleep.”

“Aye, Maestir,” she said softly.

The Casari rose. Kendel asked timidly, “M-Maestir?”

Eirathem walked over to the mat where the two boys lay, kneeling down just as he had with Taniva.

“Aye?” he asked.

But the boy ducked his head. Eirathem reached over, lifting the child's chin with one finger. “Let me see those eyes,” he said sternly.

When Kendel had complied, he said, “Ask your question.”

“W-What h-happened to Myende b-boy?” he stuttered out.

“Once the boy was aboard his dragon,” Eirathem began, “He asked her to take him back to Puethion. But in her wisdom, the dragon decided it was a Father, not a Mother he needed now. So she took him back to valley where she had found him.”

“Now in valley, Myende boys bond with snakes, as they do with dragons here. And the greatest among them is Rhacmidon. When the boy arrived and confessed what he had done, Rhacmidon took him to his tent. He has a great strap and healing potion. He turned the foolish boy over his knee and reddened his backside several times. Then he stood the sobbing boy to his feet and put bands upon his arms that kept him from doing his magic.”

“He made the boy go out to the fields and work with the Munde until he was quite sure he was ready to mind and listen. Then Rhacmidon taught him the things he needed to learn to free the dragons.”

“And now,” said Eirathem to the wide-eyed boy, “It is time for you to sleep as well.”

“Aye, Maestir,” said the child softly.

Eirathem said nothing else, though he gave Banim a pointed look as he took to his own bed. Banim lay awake a long time considering the new master that had come.

Lyra's shout woke Banim with a start.  It seemed like he had just fallen asleep moments ago.  His woman whimpered, and Banim drew her into his arms. 

“Alright,” he said gently, “we knew your time was near. You hold as tight to my hands as you need to when the pains come.”  He sat up fully and manhandled Lyra until she sat with her back flush against him.

He tensed, remembering where he was. 

Eirathem said, “Mundoneu, you will remain with her as I move the others to another room.”

“Aye, Maestir,” he agreed softly.

After they had left, Lyra broke down into tears. “They w-will take it away,” she sobbed.

“Maybe not,” said Banim. Though he held little hope that they would be allowed to keep their child.  The Munde weren't considered smart enough to care for their own young.

Lyra continued to cry in his arms.  Banim's head popped up when a young man in a green leather tunic and breeches rushed through the door.

He walked straight up to them, kneeling beside the mat they were on.  "My name is Symin," he said. "I will harm you not," he promised the couple.

Lyra flinched as he drew down the covers, revealing her nightgown. “I have to pull up your dress,” he said, “For I must be able to see your stomach to monitor your pains.”

The man was gentle, but Lyra held herself stiff and flinched every time the man’s hands felt her stomach. “I know you fear,” said the man, “But you must relax. You will just make the pains worse.”

But Lyra continued to sob.  She cried out loudly when the next pain came.  She had a death grip on Banim's hands.

At a loss for what to do, Banim began to speak softly, "Once upon a time, there was a family of redbirds.  They lived high on a mountain.".

He continued to weave a tale about the birds.  Lyra loved birds, and she began to listen to the story and calm a bit.  That was until the next pain came and she cried out again.

Many hours later, Banim was exhausted. He sat stiffly watching Symin bathe his newborn son at a table with a basin near a wall of the room they were in.

He glanced around.  The room was full of men in leathers of differing colors.

“They w-will t-take h-him away n-now," sobbed Lyra again.  Banim held his woman close as he despaired.  What were they to do?

The door opened, and a tall rider in blue leathers walked in with Kendel in his arms. Taniva walked at his side, clutching his belt.  The man had hold of Bellonien's wrist with the other hand.

The boy had his eyes planted firmly on the floor.  The Casari walked over to Symin.  "How is his health?"

“He is strong,” replied Symin, turning to hand the baby to Eirathem.  The new Casari held the boy, supporting his bottom with one hand and his head with the other. He inspected the boy critically, saying, “you have a fine boy, mundoneu, what shall you name him?”

Banim’s jaw dropped. He gaped for a moment before finally saying, “Gysiah, Maestir. I wished to call him Gysiah.”

“Then Gysiah it is,” said Eirathem firmly.

The Casari put the baby in the crook of his arm, turned, and walked over to Banim and Lyra.  He knelt on one knee next to the couple. Handing the baby to Lyra, Banim's new master said, “I suggest you suckle him; I have no doubt if he is not hungry now he will be soon. What did Vasdaon tell you?”

Lyra took the baby, clinging to it for a moment, before obediently positioning him so he could latch on to her breast.

“H-he said w-when the new master came, there w-would b-be n-no m-more crèches.”

“And there will not be,” promised Eirathem. “The only time a child will be taken from his mother is if it is clear she is unable to care for it.”

“A-Aye, M-Maestir,” the woman said softly.

Eirathem stood then, saying, "And now mundoneu, you shall get her settled. For you, I, and he,” he said as he pointed at Bellonien, “need to go and speak.”

Banim wondered just what his eldest had done.  The boy stood stiffly, staring at the floor.  Well, he was sure to find out soon.  He sat Lyra up a bit so he could slide out from behind her, then helped her lie on the blankets.

“Rest while you may,” he said to her, drawing the covers over her and the infant.

------------------------------

It was the next morning, and Banim was trudging after the rider he'd been ordered to accompany.  He gulped as they approached a shimmering dark-blue dragon crouched down on the ground. The man, whose name was Corym, turned to him.  "Use her knee to help boost you up."

Banim’s face turned pale. “What about the harness, Fehrahnd?” he asked.

The man laughed. “We will need no harness. You shall see. She will not let you fall off.”

Banim gulped but obediently scrambled up the dragon, coming to sit right behind its neck. The creature's hide was warm to the touch.  The rider climbed up behind him, taking a firm grip of his waist. Banim flinched.

“When she takes off and lands it’s a bit rough, and her magic sticks you to her back," said the man.  "Once we’re aloft and she’s gliding the thermals, you’ll be able to move a bit.”

The dragon jumped three times, each time reaching a greater height as she flapped her large wings. Then they were in the air and her strong wings continued to beat as they rose in the sky.  Soon they were gliding. 

Banim looked down and his vision swam. He tried to find something to grip to not fall off, but there was nothing. He started to hyperventilate.

“Calm down,” advised the rider. “She’s not going to let you fall off. Try to move your legs.”

His legs were stuck fast. He wasn’t going anywhere, which of course meant he wasn’t going to fall off. Still, he was nervous about being this far off the ground.  After a while, his racing heart slowed, and  Banim started to enjoy the ride. The Munde man was careful not to look down though. He glanced to the side and noticed the head rider, Caiadon was on a dark red dragon with the overseer, Nelaer.

As they soared through the air, Banim began to think about all that had happened. Had it really only been a day? It was as he was mulling over each event that it clicked in his mind, and his eyes grew hard.

The bruises on Lyra. She couldn’t have gotten them from another man. She had been in the cave the whole time he had been watching the battle between the dragons.  The only people she'd been with since he saw her naked last were Kendel…and Bellonien.

Bellonien had put the bruises on his woman.