I was dirty and probably reeked of cinnamon. Well, there was plenty of water around, so back to the last stream, off with the jacket and into the strong cold water to wash away the sweat and dirt. The water was icy. After a few moments, I had to get out again. Finally, I dipped my head in, hoping the current would remove the nasty, itchy insects in my hair. The icy current bit my ears, but hopefully killed all the nasty stuff too. I shook my head, then tried unsuccessfully to shake the water off my body.

The rumble of the approaching cloud had grown angrier. Waiting outside to dry off was out of the question, so I put the jacket on my wet skin. The countess should not parade naked through the village, at least not yet ...

I was grateful to Rap, who had left a bowl with water and a cloth to wipe my paws in the doorway of the count's house. No, my house. My home! Anyway, I first dried my fur with the cloth and then cleaned my paws. Afterwards, the cloth was red from all the cuts in my paws that had been reopened by the icy water.

Freya was in our room by the window. As soon as I opened the door, she flew at me. And seconds later she was at my hind flank, the one with the big cut that had started to bleed again after my washing and towelling.

"Oh, you stupid squirrel cat. Climbing trees is bad enough! Don't try mountains! That is a very deep cut and could make an ugly scar. And my mana is still so low. Keep still!"

I had neither the time nor the energy to protest before Freya released her blobby healing magic thing. Then she tore the skin on both sides while panting. I started to worry.

"Freya, it's okay."

"Yes, now," she panted, "Oh, I'm still not recovered."

"You should relax more."

She snorted. "I slept all day. Rap woke me half an hour ago and brought me a slice of bread and cheese."

"The one with the leaves in it?"

She nodded. "I like it."

And then the right side of the window frame lit up. It took a few moments then the thunder rolled loudly, echoing several times between the mountains. We both went to the window, which faced west. The next flash lit up the mountain range, but this one must have been further north. Where I had been on the summit hours before.

"When you heal, you use your own mana?"

Freya nodded.

"Why not use the patient's mana? I think I have more than you right now."

"It's not that simple. First, the wounded from the battlefield were half dead. Not the time to put more strain on their bodies. I never needed that skill back then. Never needed it, never learned it. Healer Apprentice Freya".

"I'm even worse standing in as Countess Apprentice Kiara."

Freya chuckled. "Yes, Squirrel-Cat Countess Apprentice Kiara. But no apprenticeship for you. Just the real thing."

Rap knocked on the door, and immediately the next thunder rolled. I opened the door. He had a burning candle. "Let me close the shutters!" He showed us how to latch them shut.

Without the candle we would see nothing, so dark was it with the shutters closed. The next thunder rolled and made the shutters rattle.

"Countess Kiara, how about dinner? The table is set in the small hall downstairs."

* * *

A large fire was burning in the open fireplace of the small hall. Small was relative, it was as deep as my room, but it spanned the width of the house, with shuttered windows on three walls. A table for five was set with bread, cheese, some vegetables and a few pieces of meat.

As we entered, the count and Jot sat down and we followed.

"Good to see you unharmed, countess," the count greeted me.

"Good evening," I said, lacking the linguistic options for a snappy retort.

"Tonight we will have a typical Litra dinner. First, let's thank the Soul of the Mountains for the food." He folded his hands for a moment and we followed.

"Enjoy your meal. First, take a piece of bread and put it on the spit. Next, put some cheese on it and maybe some meat. Then roast it and melt the cheese above the flame. Don't get too close or you'll burn it." He stuck the pieces on his thin metal spit and demonstrated.

I was more worried about burning myself. My still damp fur steamed as I approached the flames. I held the spit far in front of me. He immediately pulled my hand further back.

It took some time to find the right distance. Not a meal for a very hungry person, as I was at the moment. Not a meal for a warm summer's day either. But I could see it as an ideal meal for a long, cold winter's day. Here and now, it was sweltering in the hall with the fire burning and the shutters closed.

The thunder was a constant rumble as the echoes lingered between the mountains, drowning out any conversation. Everyone was busy with their spits.

Eventually, the thunder stopped and the shutters were opened again. Fresh, clear and moist air poured into the room, cool air together with the sound of the rain! Relieved that I would not die of heatstroke during dinner, I skewered the next slice of bread and a generous helping of cheese on my spit.

By now I was alone by the fire, the others were sitting around the table talking over a cup of wine.

I also returned to the table and chewed the half-baked bread.

"Dear Countess, how was the hike to the Thunderhead?"

"Err?"

"The mountain you climbed. If clouds appear over it, then there is a good chance of a thunderstorm." Freya translated. It seemed that the alcohol had tapped into her secret reserves of mana, her mindspeak no longer sounded so exhausted. I also learned that the Thunderhead was the highest mountain of the Litra Valley, though not the most difficult to climb. I showed them the cuts on my paws which were halfway healed thanks to Freya. And I told them about the ravine.

As we talked, I learned that the cabins of the summer pastures on the mountain were inhabited by all the young, unmarried women. The unmarried men would then make the supply runs to different cabins. At the end of the summer, many couples found each other. But not always, as in the case of Old Henry.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Only now they confessed that they were not sure if I would make it to the summit on the first try. And yet, I had kept up with Old Henry to the summit and back. The new countess had proven herself mountain-worthy. And very tired. The memory of today's adventure had sapped the last of the excitement that had kept me awake.

* * *

The sun was shining high above the valley when I finally stirred and groaned. If yesterday morning had been bad, today was pure hell. There was not a single fibre in my body that did not ache. And I had more of a body now. My skin was tight, on my face, my arms, even on my stomach and my legs. Maybe I had a sunburn on my face and arms, but how could the furry parts get a sunburn?

But nature called and there was no chamber pot in the room. Putting on the jacket was torture. The stairs must be burning too, every step was like needles picking at paws and legs. Kiara, yesterday you climbed the highest mountain around. Get down these stairs. It was embarrassing, but I wept before I reached the ground floor. Out to the outhouse and back in again. I stood there for a while until I started slowly cleaning my paws one by one. Jot came down the stairs.

"Good morning, Countess."

"Good morning, Jot." I whispered more than I spoke.

"Hangover?"

"Muscle ache." Unfortunately, already part of my active vocabulary.

He nodded sympathetically. "Count Larel is in the hall and there is some bread and cheese left over from the evening. Can I make some eggs?"

I nodded just a little because even my neck was aching. Why?

Then I walked, no, I shuffled into the small hall. Conveniently on the ground floor.

"Good morning, Countess. Muscle ache, I presume?"

I nodded weakly.

"You're not the first victim of hiking with Old Henry. Please serve yourself."

While I slowly chewed my breakfast (even my facial muscles ached), the count went outside and returned after a while with a large scroll. He cleared part of the breakfast table. Then he used four cups to keep the parchment open.

Curiosity had caught up with this squirrel-cat and I bent my head down, ignoring the ache. It was some sort of map. Unfortunately, I could not make out much of the symbols, apart from rivers and mountains. And of course, the writing meant nothing to me. But the map was interesting enough to bear the pain. I walked next to him.

"Can you guess where we are?"

There were many mountains on the map. When I looked closer, some were rounded and some were jagged. So I looked for a river between rounded and jagged mountains. "Here!"

"Almost." He pointed to a valley further into the jagged mountains. I looked at the writing. "This writing Litra? I only reading Earth."

"I can teach you in the long winters. Yes, this is Litra. Well, Litrom, in the old language. You see this valley. That is Cutra, or Cutrom, our neighbours. Almost the same size as Litra, but less, er, no high mountains. And the next valleys down the river Tret." He underlined his slow explanations with his finger on the map. That way I could grasp the essential meaning. Litra was the last valley, the cart track where we had entered Litra would cross the ridge and then continue through the forest for another three days before reaching the next settlement on the other side of the eastern range.

To the west was Cutra and Raben, which also seems to have been part of another domain. From Cutra there was a pass into another valley to another domain with the next bigger town, Karenburg. Oh, that was Count Radel's domain. So close, relatively speaking. For whoever had drawn the map had no sense of proportions and distances. The journey times were written next to the roads. But the size of the valleys and domains depended mostly on the size of their names.

Slowly I understood more. The true domains had red borders. Black outlines were dependent domains. And there were a lot of them, even Radel or rather Karenburg was a dependent domain. Green lines were royal domains, but this map was old, pre-Republic. Most of them were now Republic domains, unless they had a symbol like a smiling face sticking out its tongue next to its name which were still domains of the Royal family, usually a prince. A few blue diagonal lines were the borders of the clergy's domains, double-crossed for another faction of the clergy. Some lines had been partially scratched out to keep the map up to date. But the faded, washed out and scratched ink was not always easy to distinguish.

The map was extremely helpful to a complete beginner in the geography of the Republic, like me. And it was also a great tool for visualising politics. I finally understood that Litra was simply too small and too far away for anyone to bother conquering it. Or just take care of it. So no one would bother in the future. And secondly, I got a faint, really faint idea of the driving forces behind the politics at the court in Krenburg. The best thing was that, as the Countess of Litra, I would not have to worry much about politics in Krenburg since Litra was independent.

"And tonight, Count Frederick of Cultra and his wife Katharina will come with their two sons and daughter to celebrate with us."

It took a moment before I understood. "So I smiling only."

The count nodded and sighed. "Not necessarily, but certainly not your worst idea."

I understood that as a polite request.

* * *

Freya returned in the early afternoon. She had a tired smile on her face. I was lying on my stomach on a big log near the house in the shade. I had not moved since lunch. My arms and legs dangled from my sides like a sloth. Well, they live in trees too, like squirrels.

Freya stroked my fur from my lower shoulder to my tail. Soon I was purring. And she told me of her visits. But this time she had saved her mana as much as she could. Instead, she used the traditional methods she could teach them. Like pressing for lumps, some herbs and so on. And she made a list of things she would need to look up in Krenburg. She lacked paper and literacy. Yes, she could not write, or rather, she could draw letters, like drawing houses.

"Tonight, the count from the neighbouring valley is coming. You must help me with my dress."

Freya stopped stroking me. "Don't worry, they are no bigger than us. Small fry nobility and similarly down-to-earth, I guess." She still didn't move her hand. "Freya, I know you don't like nobility. But you are okay with me. So come on. And please, more stroking."

Freya stroked me absentmindedly.

A child ran past, "The Count of Cutra, they are coming!"

And off he went between the houses, still shouting his message.

Lying lazily on the trunk like a sloth hadn't done much for my aching muscles. Big surprise. I gritted my teeth and followed Freya into our room. This time it was my turn. I put the dress on and Freya stood on my back to fasten the laces with all her might. At least that dress would me keep upright without any effort.

I only had to tighten the two laces on the back of Freya's dress, one under her chest and one above her hips. Her dress was great, accentuating her figure without constricting her. Especially compared to my restricting, elaborate and impractical monster of a dress. A well-endowed squirrel sausage, a victim of medieval fashion.

* * *

With ladylike slowness due to the aching muscles, and ladylike shortness of breath due to my dress, I reached the door just as the carriage with the Count and Countess of Cutra arrived. Good, then no one would look at me.

The count stepped out first, then the countess, two sons and a daughter. Count Larel stood there and bowed, just like the other count. Then they embraced. With his hand, Count Larel signed for me to come to him. So I did, bowing as deeply as I could in my creaking and restricting dress. "I am Kiara of Earth and Litra," I said as if I were choking, "nice to meet you."

The Count of Cutra looked at me sceptically but bowed slightly nonetheless. "Count Frederic of Cultra, pleased to meet you." Then he turned to Count Lareal. "I suppose this is a long story."

"Dear Frederic, Countess Kiara has been on this world for less than 20 days and does not speak Kren very fluently. But I promise you, you are in for quite a story."

And then he waved to Freya, who finally came after making her most shocked but ultimately futile "what me?" face.

"This is Apprentice Healer Freya."

Count Frederick took Freya's hand and kissed it. "Nice to meet you, Healer Freya."

Freya blushed deeply. It looked like Cutra also had not seen a real healer for a long time ...

For the rest of the evening, I followed the count's advice to not talk too much. Freya sat next to me and translated, but much of the conversation revolved around names and events of no importance to us. At least some of the names I dimly remembered from the explanation of the map.

We slowly approached the real reason for the invitation when Count Larel gave the latest news from Krenburg. And when we finally arrived at dessert, sweet, glazed roots, the conversation turned to the new countess in the room. Once again, Count Larel spun a long, elaborate tale in preparation for his instinctive decision to bestow the title of Litra upon me. Spinning tales was probably a well-honed skill here, practised during the long winters.

Finally, it was my turn to tell of my last 18 days in this world. I deliberately spoke Earth, which Freya translated. Although I had told my story so many times, I was able to give an understandable short version in broken Kren. But the long version made for a better story. Honestly, my whole life before would not be half as long to summarize as the last 18 days. I finished by emphasising once again how lucky I was to have arrived in this world and to have come to the Republic.

Despite the mulled tea, I was hoarse, Freya was hoarse, and even Count Larel sounded a little different. Time to bring the evening to a close.