Cerise wasn't sure how she got talked into going on the boar hunt. Her mother took over carrying the egg that remained while watching the caged baby almirajs for their two young Honorable Misses.

Both girls were quite distracted while they said their farewells to their new pets. Her father's cage was quite well made, and they had lined the floor with a bit of dirt for the almirajs to burrow in, along with freshly gathered grasses for bedding. The Honorables' horses were dire beasts and their grains were good fodder for the horned rabbits.

The Honorables rode those horses while Mykhal and Cerise walked. The woods around here were older growth, which meant more brush and fewer trunks, a lot of ferns, and Cerise decided she was happy she had brought her freshly emptied rat skin backpack, as well as a gather basket. The basket was a simple thing she had woven with the cordage she made when she walked her rounds around the caravan. As they went to where Mykhal had found the boar sign, she ranged around the group, picking mushrooms, plucking nuts and berries, and digging up roots.

She realized that this was the autumn season, up North at least. Here, in the South, it was still late summer by the gather and weather. Her parents talked about the weather a lot, but it suddenly struck Cerise that most of the growing season was over and they had no larder built up to see them through winter snows. They had coin, a great wealth, more than probably the whole of Trall had seen, but in the end, coins were metal, and humans did not eat metal.

Cerise set to harvesting with diligence. She took care not to over harvest, but she still gathered more than she had come planning to take back.

They weren't even halfway to the time of the caravan's first rest stop when Mykhal called for a stealthed stop. He suddenly disappeared into the woods, one minute there, the next only brush and brambles where he had stood. She felt him, though, an odd kind of expanded proprioception. He moved on ahead of them maybe a quarter field length before he returned, popping out of his Camouflage stealth right next to Cerise.

Heral had his sword pointed at Mykhal and then raised almost faster than Cerise could see. Softly, the squire said, "Perhaps we should invoke a party between you and we so I don't mistake you for a hostile element. Again."

Cerise and Mykhal exchanged questioning looks then turned their curiosity to Heral.

For his part, Heral said, "You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

They shook their heads in a confirming, no.

"Later, then. Why the stealth?" Heral asked.

"Tri-horn deer ahead. The leather will be thinner, but if we catch two, it can be doubled and it'll be softer where it touches skin. We could try for the boars still if we don't get more than one, but the blood scent might foul the hunt, or draw in a dire cat or wolves. I'm not worried about leading them to the caravan. This land is too rich fo them to risk attacking that many, but us with fresh meat is a different matter," Mykhal said.

Heral sheathed his sword and dismounted. He drew a standard bow from a tube of leather that hung from the back of his saddle and strung it, attaching a quiver to his belt.

Izrai and Mahayan stepped their horses closer.

"Miss Cerise, Mister Mykhal, to join our parties, focus for a moment on stilling your mind, then ask the Voice of the World to recognize we five as teammates. It will give us a general sense of where we all are and which way we're moving." Heral stood calmly while he waited for them to act.

It seemed like a more slapdash way of doing things compared to when she and Mykhal formed their duo. That had involved an actual contract signed with a similar decision to become part of a team. Regardless, she and Mykhal followed Heral's instructions.

Delving Lights joins with Cousins Treborant into a hunt team.

Heral smiled wryly. "You signed a team contract, I see. Interesting name choice. What's the layout where the deer are?"

Mykhal made a quick sketch in the forest loam and they agreed on a plan of attack. Cerise and Mahayan would cast Paralyze on the two nearest deer, if they could safely do so. Cerise had only cast that skill through touch before, and no one wanted her that close to the still living wild beasts. Izrai was charged with defending the supporters, while Mykhal and Heral took ranged shots with their bows.

Mahayan had a Spark spell, a higher powered version of her Paralyze, but they wanted to avoid risking damage to the hides.

Things did not go according to plan.

To start, Izrai was loud in the woods. She tried, but they were barely in sight of the thicket hiding the deer before she cracked a large rotted stick under her boot. Alerted, the deer broke cover to bound off.

Cerise's intuition of her skill said she could use it at range. It did not warn her how much more mana that would cost, and the sudden drain took her legs out from under her.

Mahayan's Paralyze spell went off a couple heart beats later, hitting the same deer that Cerise had already stopped, and which Mykhal had already shot.

Instead of staying with Mahayan and Cerise, Izrai charged the fleeing deer, running right into the path of the arrow Heral had loosened. Fortunately, she managed to partly deflect it, and she was wearing decent hardened leather armor.

Heral's response to the cluster fumble surprised Cerise. He moved up to Mahayan, an arrow with a metal tip in hand, and put it up to her throat. Softly, he asked Mahayan, "How long until she looks, do you think?"

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Mahayan said, "She's too caught up in having a 'real' adventure. I think she just doesn't have the temperament for being a defensive fighter."

Mykhal, meanwhile, checked on Cerise. "Okay?" he asked.

"Good. Finish the downed one. Still alive, and fighting off my Paralyze," she said, feeling the deer resisting her skill, though not yet to the point of shaking it off.

He nodded, trusting Cerise to know herself, and blurred past Izrai, his knife, cleanly slicing the paralyzed deer's throat.

"No sense chasing them," he called to Izrai. "Where's your sister?"

Izrai stumbled to a halt, shocked at Mykhal's speed, it seemed. Then she glanced back and spotted Heral glaring at her with his arrow pointed at Mahayan's throat.

"You failed your duty," Heral declared.

Izrai glared back. "She was safe enough! I had to make up for giving us away!"

"Obviously not, Izzy. Your duty is to prevent any hostiles from reaching your quite vulnerable, under age sister, but here I am, with a blade to her throat," Heral stated, anger putting frost in his words. "What if I were a goblin?"

Cerise deliberately turned her attention away from the arguing trio. There wasn't anything a Freeman gained by stepping uninvited into noble squabbles. Even if she did agree with Heral's point.

She stood, breathing deeply as she adjusted to suddenly going from a full Mana Pool to a half full Pool. Cerise really hoped that shorter ranges would make a bigger difference.

Mykhal set about field dressing the deer, and Cerise moved closer, thinking to help. However, when she moved passed Izrai, the woman turned to her, gesturing with her drawn swords.

"Tell Heral he's just being an ox's backend!" the irate [Sword Dancer] demanded.

"I'd prefer not to be part of a family fight, Honorable Miss. That never ends well for the outsider," Cerise said, eying the flashing steel with concern.

If Heral's words were frosty before, they turned glacial now. "Izrai Affel, sheath your swords and kneel."

She knelt, but dropped her swords instead of sheathing them, a shocked look on her face.

Heral crossed the distance separating them with a sense of inevitability. He gathered Izrais's swords making them disappear. He glared down at the still kneeling young Honorable. "Do you even realize what you just did?"

"I just asked--," Izrai began.

Heral cut her off. "No. You don't. Your lack of awareness makes you unfit to wield live steel. I don't have the words to tell you how disappointed I am in you right now. Our hunt is done."

"But, Heral!" she wailed.

"No, Izrai. You swung your swords at an ally, and a [Healer] at that! You might not have intended a threat, but such an action is just the last in a series of irresponsible choices. No. We're done. I will not risk anyone for your convenience. You may rise. Unless my father supersedes my order, you may not carry a sword until you demonstrate that you respect the responsibility."

"This isn't fair! I'm a [Sword Dancer]! It's my class! You can't just--!"

"Izrai." There was a weight behind those two syllables, a finality that stopped the woman from saying more. "Gather the horses."

This time, tears welling up in her eyes, all Izrai said was, "Your will be done, el-Treborant."

She got up and went to gather the horses.

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

They were a somber group when they rejoined the caravan just before first break. Izrai was in full pout and Heral was stone faced. The tri-horned deer carcass was slung over the back of Heral's horse, and he made an effort to relax his manner toward everyone who was not Izrai. Mahayan was the most relaxed of the cousins, but she seemed mildly happy with the rebuke her sister had earned, and at the same time wary of Heral.

Heral delivered the carcass to Cerise's mother. He also turned over the first of the [Healer] skill books he had promised to loan Cerise along with a blank book a bit thicker than the skill book, a jar of Uncommon grade lamp ink, and two dip pens with a small tin of metal nibs for the pens.

The Honorable Misses collected their bonded almiraj. Izrai seemed to need cuddles with her new pet nearly as much as the two baby monsters wanted to cuddle their masters. The sisters were very polite while thanking Cerise's mother for looking after Astrid and Glatadia.

As soon as the Honorables were safely back up in front of the caravan, the Quartermaster called from his wagon bench, "That don't look like a boar. What happened?"

Cerise left Mykhal to tell the tale. She set her full gather basket and rat skin pack in the back of the cart, warning her mother that she needed to sort out medicinal gathers from food. Then she hugged her mother and made a quick circuit of the caravan. She found a few more ticks, only one with Sleeping Sickness. Two had latched onto [Wagoneers], and she gave them the water soaked gauze pads she used for extracting and killing the vermin. Fortunately, they were on a calf and under the arm of the other, places the [Wagoneers] could reach without much fuss or embarrassment.

The [Wagoneer] who had had to have one removed from his pee staff still wouldn't make eye contact with her. She hadn't done more than hand him the gauze and warn him to check after he peed, but her knowing was still enough to make him blush. Cerise respected his embarrassment and said nothing more.

She finished her round in time to help her mother set up for the break, take the book and scribing stuffs, and seek out Brower.

He perked up on seeing her. "Back with a boar so soon?" he called out in greeting.

"No boar," Cerise said. "We got a tri-horn deer, though, and Mama plans to share that out at dinner tonight. I take it word spread?"

Brower laughed. "Just a bit. We expect Mister Mykhal to take off hunting, but not our diligent young Miss [Healer]. Have you made a round yet?"

"Just a quick one. Watch out for the ticks around here. I found another with Sleeping Sickness today. Also, if our hunt has been so widely proclaimed, what else was spread around?"

His eyes fixed on her scribing box. "Well, there are rumors the Honorable Mister traveling with us gave you some courting gifts."

Cerise burst out laughing. "Oh! Oh, no!" she chortled, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

"But he did follow you from Va'Treborant? And he is the el-Treborant?" Brower asked.

"I don't know about followed, or what being el-Treborant means. He was introduced that way, though. He and his cousins are to train in the Sea Crest Dungeon, and he was with this group of patrollers we helped after they ran into a goblin migration. Mama said his commander recommended he recruit Mykhal and me to aid them."

Brower said, "Well, then. The el- or the am- of a House is the presumptive heir. They have not been confirmed by their liege or the King. Confirmed heirs are the elvants and the amvants of their Houses. That would make the Honorable Mister the presumptive heir to the Hirsellands of House Treborant. There are worse connections to form."

He sighed. "Which would make the rumors of him gifting you with skill books farfetched."

"That," Cerise said, grinning. "Is only partly wrong. They are on loan for me to copy. And, if I'm copying them, you should have time to read over my shoulder, right?"

Brower's face lit up for all of two heart beats before he frowned with suspicion and concern. "Is he courting you?"

Cerise laughed and shook her head. "Only as a recruit. I think. I'll admit that I'm surprised there aren't more [Healers] about."

Brower shrugged, relaxing as he accepted that idea. "The class is uncommon to begin, and most who start with a true [Healer] class are called to Lunaria or swiftly recruited into a Healing Hall. There are some like me who come late to the class, and my experience with the Halls is that if you're not willing to give them control of your life, they aren't willing to teach you. Maybe some will disclose enough for a team's [Scout] to learn a First Aid skill, but even that comes with an oath not to willfully teach others. Lunaria's dedicates use skills they cannot teach to others because the prerequisite is Lunaria's blessing."

"Oh," was all Cerise could find to say to that. So she changed the topic, lifting up her scribe box. "Let's see what's in this book."