The next morning Warren woke Uzca up when it was time to depart. The sun was just rising, casting golden light through the trees to the east, and a pot of cooked oats bubbled over the fire.

"Grab some breakfast, put the fire out, and we'll be on our way."

Uzca was up last, and he took care of the fire after eating while Bezben grudgingly helped Warren take down his tent and get the rest of their gear stowed.

They left, and most of the day passed pleasantly. Bezben stayed quiet and Warren and Uzca were content to ride without conversation. It was late in the afternoon when something spooked the horses. They shied away from the side of the road, and Warren had to work to get them under control.

"Whoa! What's wrong!" Warren shouted at them.

"We'll check it out!" Uzca said, hopping off the wagon.

"Be careful!" Warren called.

Bezben didn't look like he wanted to join Uzca, but after a moment jumped off and followed his cousin.

A rustling in the bushes caused the horses to panic again, and a massive boar jumped out of the foliage. It turned on Uzca, about a half dozen yards away, and charged him. Uzca had never been hunting, but this wasn't his first time facing down one of the mountain boars. When it had happened before, he tried to climb a tree. They were territorial but not patient animals and wouldn't wait out someone up a tree. He didn't have that choice with two others and the horses behind him.

"Hit it with a spear after I stun it!" he called to Bez.

He let the boar get close and then shifted his fist. One thing he had learned was that while his fist didn't get heavier to him, it had a lot more momentum while it was metal. It slammed into the boar's snout with a crunch and caused it to pause for a step, clearly dazed. Uzca rolled to the side.

A spear manifested above Bezben's head and with a shout, his cousin plunged the glowing weapon toward the boar. Two more spears followed after the first failed to do more than shallowly cut the beast. Only one scored a solid hit, and Bezben was exhausted from using three in close succession.

Uzca growled and pulled out his sword. "Get back!"

The boar was pushing past its disorientation and was beginning to thrash around. Bezben's spears vanished almost immediately, so he failed to pin down the boar. Now it was panicked and defensive. Uzca lunged in while it still had at least a little disorientation.

He'd only used a sword a handful of times, and none of those were in any kind of combat scenario. Mostly he swung them around to check weight and balance. He'd seen Renza practice with one, and even witnessed a spar between him and Menza. It had been more ceremony than duel because neither of the men normally fought with a blade, but Uzca had seen some actual technique in use.

Between his time spent swinging a blade around and his mental image of his father's thrusting strike, he managed to score a solid blow on the beast. While he cut the boar badly, it was far from a finishing blow. It spun on Bezben, squeeling with rage before it began to charge.

"Move!"

Bezben jumped out of the way at the last moment, and the boar ran by. Uzca raced after it. When it skidded to a stop and spun, it found Uzca's metal knee flying into its face.

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Uzca felt some vital energy sapped away as he channeled power into his knee. He didn't have much practice with it, but he would be able to get the most power into the blow, and it was the right height to strike at the boar. The impact knocked it back and stunned it just long enough for Uzca to get a finishing blow on the beast.

He yelled and thrust his sword toward its heart, relief flooding him when the blade stabbed true and did not catch on bone. He held the blade there for nearly a minute, unwilling to move. He sagged when the boar finally stopped breathing. He sank to the ground and sat beside the fallen beast. It was half as tall as he was and probably just as heavy.

"Are you alright, Uzca?" Bezben asked.

"Yeah, just exhausted. It's harder to turn my joints metal than my fists. My knees can hit harder, though, especially on a low target."

Warren ran up with a spear in hand, eyes wild as he looked around. He saw the dead beast and laughed, nodding to the pair.

"Well done, lads. Wouldn't have liked to run into that beast on my own. Do either of you know how to clean a boar? I have some salt to cure a bit, but we can stop and eat a meal fit for a king!"

Uzca had no idea. As he had discussed with his father, he'd never been hunting and had no reason to learn how to prepare any animals.

"I've never done a boar before, but I have no doubt I can handle it. Pa and I went hunting all the time," Bezben said. Uzca was oddly relieved to see his cousin's usual cocky attitude had returned.

"Good, good. You had best get started. Uzca, will you help me with the horses? They're still spooked, and we need to dig out the salt too."

They got to work, each man looking forward to a belly full of bacon. Warren said it was a little early, but they wouldn't have any problems stopping for the night so long as they kept a good watch. The freshly butchered boar would no doubt attract predators.

It took Bezben the better part of two hours to finish dressing the animal. The boar was enormous, and this was the first time he had prepared one. They cut it into thick slabs for curing. Warren had enough salt to cure nearly half of the beast, and they cooked up most of the rest. Warren was full of tricks and showed the boys how they could use a box to smoke some of the meat using some choice wood.

"The smoked meat will keep for a day or two, so we can eat that tomorrow on the road, and I might be able to sell a little in town," the merchant explained. He paid them each a mark and a half for their share of the boar meat, which Warren would either eat or sell after it had cured. It was a generous price for the amount of meat, but they had also slain the beast and protected Warren and his horses, and that was worth something.

The sound of crackling fat on the fire was music to Uzca's ears. When the first portion was done and he got a bite, he could practically feel his strength return. Something about enjoying the spoils of his own hard work was particularly satisfying. Maybe when all this was over he would start hunting after all. There was a certain thrill to it beside the satisfaction.

Warren cleared his throat once they had all eaten their fill and were holding their stomachs in contentment.

"Listen well, boys. We should talk about something. Now, don't get me wrong, I like the mountain folk. I like your village and have found you all to be wonderful people. But I feel like I need to warn you."

Uzca sat up as straight as he could, his stomach protesting the movement.

"About what?"

"I saw you both use your powers. You should know about what they say in the lowlands. I know it's not something your folk speak about."

"Is there something wrong with our gifts?" Bezben asked. He hadn't sat up, but he looked concerned.

"Your gifts are power granted by your gods, right?"

Uzca nodded. "Yeah. We hold a festival every ten years, and the gods give those who have come of age a gift if they find them worthy. The festival just happened about a week ago. Both Bezben and I are new to our gifts."

Warren snapped his finger and rocked back. "I knew it! No one in the village wanted to buy anything, and I couldn't figure out why. Everyone just got done spending money on the festival, no doubt. Hmm. Well, anyway. You and your gifts are known by other names in most of the lowlands."

"What do they call us?"

"There are a variety of names. The most common you'll hear is God Touched. It's not something said with reverence, mind you. It's a superstitious title, and people won't trust you if they know about it. Then there are those with more prejudice. They'll say you're tainted by the old forgotten gods. God Tainted, they'll say. At best they'll consider you cursed, at worst? Well, let's just say those are the ones you really need to watch out for."