Waithe beckoned his horse forward along the narrow road such that it trotted beside the one Ceres rode. "I have wondered, my fair healer, how you came to wander about these lands. Would not a Lady of the Order be assigned to a city or a Lord of the Lands?"

A third horse bearing packs trudged behind hers, led on reins. A small cloud of dust swirled behind them in the warm breeze. Part of him wished that they traveled north to the highland steppes of Adem, or even the mountains of the North Lands, where the air was cool and comfortable. As it was this time of year here in the Veld Lands, the day would soon turn hot and most likely miserable.

"You speak truly, my dear protector. I was indeed assigned to the Lord's house in Kust, the land rich with ores along the west coast. Also, I was to be mated with his chief shaman."

Waithe raised an eyebrow. "And yet, you be here. I, for one, be exceedingly grateful for that."

"And I for another. Such a horrible man is Lord Shias and his mage Raste is even worse. I would rather be forever chaste then to ever let him touch me." She pointed a forefinger at Waithe and raised her voice. "I shall not serve an unjust Lord! Nor will I be bred like a prized cow!"

He nodded in agreement. "And well you should not. So the Order just let you go on your way?"

Ceres took a deep breath and looked away. "Nay. I stole away in the dead of night. The Order seeks to return me, by force if necessary, I fear, and Lord Scias' men search for me as well. My brave protector, I feel I wronged you by not revealing this sooner."

A tingle crawled down Waithe's spine and stole away a breath. The Order of Medice and Lord Scias were powerful, even outside their homelands. Ceres was in more danger than she realized.

He did not allow his concerns to change his voice. "No matter, my Lady Ceres. I would still choose to serve you. Be there any others with nefarious design on you?"

"None that I am aware of."

He grinned. "But without the Order of Medice backing, how would you pay my exorbitant salary? I would need funds to buy the ale necessary to enter into more bar fights."

She laughed out loud. "Not to worry, my greedy mercenary, I sometimes sell my healing services to wealthy landowners, who often pay handsomely. There should be more than enough to keep you in ale. Although, under my employ, I would request that you drink in moderation and avoid tavern brawls."

He bowed. "As you wish, my Lady."

Waithe looked ahead with some concern. He reached over and took hold of the reins to Ceres' bay colored horse. "Whoa, there." He turned to her. "Hold here for now. Allow me to check the path ahead."

To this point, the dual-track wagon road wound its way through open plains, pastures, and farmland, mostly flat lands with only a few gentle hills. Few trees shaded their way from the hot sun. Close ahead towered a thick grove of hardwood trees that seemed to swallow up the road. Rock faced hills surrounded the road, forming a wide canyon. A place ripe for an ambush, Waithe thought to himself. He entered the trees. Looking back again to Ceres he held up his hand, imploring her to wait. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with a bandana while staring at the relative coolness of the shade ahead.

Waithe slowly followed the road into the darkness of the forest with one hand ready to draw the sword strapped to his back. He cast his eyes to the trees above and toward every nook along the way.

Ceres' yell pierced the silence. "Waithe, what see you?"

He rolled his eyes, any pretense of stealth was now gone. With a sigh, he turned and galloped back to her.

As he approached his charge, she said, "Is it safe to enter? It is dreadfully hot here."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "If there be anyone within nearly half a league, surely they be alerted to our presence."

She lowered her head and shut her eyes. "Oh... Forgive me, my protector. I am not wise about these things."

"Not to worry. I be perhaps too cautious in my duty. The road ahead follows a stream where we may find rest and water the horses. Let us continue."

As characteristic of the dry season among the grassy plains of the Ley Lands, the nights were pleasantly cool, but the afternoons became uncomfortably hot. At least the shade brought a measure of relief from the hot afternoon sun. The road continued through the canyon. On one side a small stream trickled at the bottom of a steep bank, and on the other, a red rock wall closed in as they went on. The stream teased the sweltering travelers from below, promising cool relief that laid not within easy reach. Only half an hour later could it be easily accessed at a widened crossing.

They pulled up under the canopy of a massive tree. They dismounted and allowed the horses to drink from the cool water. Ceres immediately shed her boots and waded into the burbling cool water. Finding a suitable rock near the edge of the shallow stream, she sat and looked up at the emerald leaves that shimmered in the gentle breeze. A songbird warbled a medley of happy songs from the highest branch.

A smile emerged on her face. "This is a wonderful place to rest, Waithe. You have chosen well."

"Aye, that it be, but not so much by my choice. Our parched horses would surely have rebelled had we taken one step past."

Ceres stood in the knee-deep water and stretched her arms overhead, humming as she did. As she took a step, her feet came out from under her on the slick rocks and she slid down into the pool with a squeal as the coolness fully engulfed her. Waithe threw his sword and scabbard to the ground and splashed in after her, but before he reached her she emerged back on her feet laughing. Her riding dress, normally modest, now clung tightly to her form.

Waithe could not help but laugh with her. "Well, that be one way to cool off and wash the dust away. I think I would join you."

He pulled off his boots and shirt, then dove into the pool. Ceres turned her face away from the splash he made.

As he stood up she came to him and ran her fingers across his chest. "Your wounds appear to be healing well. Soon there will be barely a trace of them."

He nodded and then bowed to her. "Miraculous it seems that they mend so quickly, all thanks to my kind healer. Although, I would hope that the scars remain. For these would have the most wondrous tale of any that mark me."

He gazed into her eyes for a moment until she turned away. It puzzled Waithe, his feelings for Ceres. He felt protective of the beautiful maiden before him, but not at all desire. Still, if he were a young man...

A sudden shadow cast across the stream caused him to jerk his gaze to the nearby bank. There stood three rough-looking men each with blades drawn, the one closest with a rusty sword and the other two holding long knives. The swordsman motioned his younger companions to either side, flanking the pair standing in the stream. Ceres gasped as Waithe thrust her behind him. He cast his gaze at his own sword, abandoned on the bank too far away to be of any use.

The man with the rusty sword, obviously the leader of this band, carried a wild cruel gleam in his eyes. Waithe had seen this kind of look before, this was one who would think nothing of spilling blood. The eyes of the other two did not show the same murderous intent. One even stood wide-eyed with trepidation, the blade trembling in his hand. The first would likely nonetheless follow along with the leader, but the second, a skinny young man with dark wavy hair, seemed well out of his element. By their tattered clothes, dirty appearance, and poor maintenance of their blades, Waithe surmised the men to be desperate, the most dangerous of bandits. They held their blades not as ones trained to fight, but still, they had weapons and he did not.

The man with the sword put on a toothless smile that parted his dirty black beard. "Well, look here at what we have, ripe for the taking." He motioned to the man on his left, the wide-eyed one. "Kane, slit that old man's throat."