Birds sang in the distance as Ticca moved cautiously along the game trail. The traps needed to be checked regularly to prevent any accidental miss, causing unneeded grief. The next trap came into view; it had been tripped, yet it was empty. Ticca paused, listening to the sounds of the forest for anything out of place. Her hearing identified many animals living and dying in the pattern of the woods. Sensing nothing unusual, she approached the trap cautiously.

Scrapes on the tree bark told the story. Laughing, her bell-like voice floated through the forest. Most animals didn’t even bother to listen. She moved in more confidently. A bear had helped itself to the bait meant to attract the large red squirrels she needed to harvest. Examining the marks on the tree, she saw that it was a half-grown cub.

Well now, I have a saboteur. Not the first bear to learn it’s a tasty treat.

Enjoying the late afternoon warmth and filtered sun, she went about moving, fixing, and resetting the trap. From her large pouch, she pulled a leaf-wrapped package containing the squirrel bait made of nuts mixed with seeds and sweet resin. Putting the remaining bait away, she jumped the twenty feet to the forest floor. Looking around a second time for signs of bears, she fished in her pouch for the small vial of grizzly musk. Her hand didn’t find it, so she was forced to pull the pouch around, holding it open with one hand while peering in and looking more vigorously. Finally, she found it wedged at the bottom under her notebook. I don’t use this too often, but it sure is handy to have. Opening the vial, she applied a few dabs of the musk on the base of the trap’s new tree and rubbed it into the bark hard, using the bearskin leather cloth she carried for that purpose. That should warn off my little friend from climbing.

Running through the trapping checklist in her head, she reassured herself she had done everything needed. I need to note where I put it; not that I have ever lost a trap. She smiled. Well, at least, none that I remember.

She sat down and pulled out the notebook. It was a beautiful traveling journal bound in fine leather. It was engraved with her sign on the front and back. The paper was of a strong fiber plant that made it impervious to moisture and which gave the trader’s ink a perfect surface to adhere to. Both the paper and ink were made by their respective families in town. She had made the leather cover and sewn the book together herself. She caressed it, remembering how making such a book had been used as training on strong stitching and leather preparation by her mother. However, her skills had improved, as that was her tenth such journal and the best she had made yet.

Sitting and dreaming of the past is not going to finish the day’s work.

Opening the journal, she flipped through the pages, a combination of journal, accounting log, and map book. Identifying the page for that trap, she marked out its prior position and recorded a fresh entry. She was surprised to note that was the third time she had to move that particular trap.

I have a real stubborn bear cub hereabouts, or, one with a serious taste for sweet nuts.

Reading some of her entries for the last few cycles’ work, she smiled.

At least, this is the only one for this season, so far.

She went back to the original tree and climbed up to the old location. Pulling the sweet nut bait back out, she left a small portion in the nook of the limb and tied a leaf over it to protect it from the rain.

I hope that will stop him from hunting down the new location.

With the offering ready, she said a prayer to the Goddess Dalpha to thank her for the challenge and to ask that the bear not harm itself in the trap, should it still find it. She jumped to the forest floor, jogged back to the game trail, and followed it to the next location. If she moved fast enough, she could complete the trap circuit that day.

Her energy increased in anticipation of going home after running the two-day trap circuit. The soft red pelts were tied into a tight bundle that bounced on her hips as she moved through the woods. The shadows were already long as she approached the edge between the deep forest and the open lake glade near her home. Sitting by the lake in a leisurely pose was the man her heart and soul agreed should be her life mate. She paused to observe him. Her heart was already racing, as it always did when she saw him. He was tall, even sitting. His long, silky black hair flowed in the soft breeze. He wore the simple green leggings he preferred. He sat with his legs pulled under him, so she couldn’t see if he was barefoot or not, although it was likely he was in those horrible old boots he loved so much. His figure was striking in the brown tunic with long tapered cuffs she had made for him for Midwinter’s Night.

He was gazing across the lake, to the southeast.

Always thinking and planning, as if he can alter the future to meet his desires.

He hadn’t noticed her, and he was sitting such that she could pass only a few dozen feet to the left and come up directly behind him. Smiling deviously, she moved to a better location for a stealthy approach. Setting down the satchel of squirrel carcasses and her pouch in a spot just behind a tree, she edged out of the forest. Her smile and her forward motion froze as she registered that he wasn’t where he had been a moment before.

“My lady needs a bath after such a work-filled day. Allow me to assist.”

She screamed as strong hands grasped her hips from behind. Lifting her as if she was a leaf, he crossed the thirty feet to the edge of the lake in a couple of heartbeats, at a dead run. She kicked and squirmed wildly, hoping to throw his balance off.

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Their speed did not abate on reaching the lake. Instead, holding her high, he jumped, carrying both of them far out over the water. Midflight, she managed to twist around and grab hold of him with both arms and legs. They held onto each other, laughing together as the cold water welcomed them into its embrace.

- - -

Sputtering for air, Ticca sat up in bed. Her heart pounding hard.

Where am I?

Shaking her head, she looked around the dimly lit room. Sunlight was filtering in past the cracks in the shutters over the small window. The room smelled of dust, and the faint hint of a musky perfume was teasing her nose.

Sula’s perfume. I am in Llino. This is my room at the Blue Dolphin. What the heck was that dream all about? I’ve never experienced anything in it at all; nothing even close, except maybe the hunting and tracking.

Her new boots silently hit the hardwood floor and gave her a more grounded feeling. She bent over, holding her head as the final cobwebs cleared from her mind.

That forest was so real. But I have never been in it before. Those squirrels were huge. And who was that man who carried me into the lake? In the dream, I knew him, but I don’t think I have ever met anyone that looked like him before. Standing, she stretched and twisted, feeling great. Amazing, what a good night’s sleep can do.

Then she remembered the crowns.

Maybe the whole night was a dream.

Looking at the table, she sighed.

Well, some of it was real.

She reached for the new pouch, grateful it was still there and real. Opening it, she pulled out the four shiny gold coins and the small glass vial. She sat back on the bed and placed the vial on the small table, playing with the coins in the sun’s rays coming through the window.

Four crowns in one night; I am going to make it here. I proved I’m a capable Dagger. Sula is no fool. That she paid me means I proved myself to her.

Smiling, she stood, putting the coins back into the pouch.

She went through her morning ritual stretches as best she could in the small space. Her body flowed through the movements without any complaints.

I am feeling amazingly good, considering the beating I took last night.

When she stretched her arms behind her, she gritted her teeth, expecting the sharp pain her poor shoulder should have given her. Instead, she was able to complete the back stretches without anything more than the normal slight twinges of muscles loosing up.

Confused, she removed her shirt and examined her arm, where the large bruise had been the night before. Her skin was a healthy dark olive. Stunned, she looked over every place she could get to where there had been damage. After careful examination, she couldn’t find a single blemish. All of the evidence of abuse had vanished as if it never happened. Even more interesting was that her skin was a fairer, more uniform color, as it had been when she was a few years younger before going to the city.

I know I didn’t dream the fight, and I had dozens of bruises in the bath last night. Seriously, I should have been hurting for at least a few days.

Putting her shirt back on, she sat down on her bed, thinking through everything that had happened.

I heal fast, but not this fast.

She looked down at the boots and thought about it.

Could these boots be magical? I’ve never heard of such. But healing boots would be practical and not likely to be suspected or taken if one was captured.

Opening the shutters, she took the boots off and examined them closely once more with the help of sunlight. They were still made of unusual fine leather, lined with dense reddish-brown fur, and had the best stitching she had ever seen.

Now I know where the red squirrels in my dream came from. Dreams are funny. Oversized squirrels, instead of a bunny or an ermine. This fur is like dense rabbit fur.

Laughing at her imagination, she looked at the threads.

I know I have seen stitching like this before. But I can’t place it.

Turning the boot over, she examined the sole’s construction. It was made from semi-hard leather that had been treated with something that glistened in the light. It felt tacky, like tree sap, but not so much as to pick up dirt or dust.

That is a neat trick.

The heels were not raised but were stiffer, with some internal support under the fur. She flexed the boots and found the front part was as flexible as her toes.

I can climb with these. With the tacky sole treatment, I bet I can climb even better with these on than off. The fact I am alive is all the magic I need for now. Magical or not, these are the finest boots I have ever seen.

Putting them back on her feet, she stood and gathered her belongings. She slipped her belt through the solid loops on the new pouch. It took a few minutes of playing with the throwing knife sheaths’ arrangement on her belt before it felt comfortable, and she was satisfied with the impression it would make. Putting it on over her shirt, she wiggled to be sure it settled onto her hips. She slipped the knives into the sheaths, trying not to look.

This needs to be automatic and look smooth.

She took the knives back out again without looking. It took a while to practice drawing and sheathing each knife in turn, in groups, and at random. Eventually, she was sure she could make it look good when needed.

Forget the cross-belts; this is a good setup. Now, it’s time to see if I can make these work.

She put all her weapons around the room and stood in the center. Slipping sideways, she stretched her foot out. Angling her boot toe under one throwing knife’s edge, she kicked it into the air. She turned around, caught it with her off-hand, and sheathed it in one motion. Bending backward, she scooped another knife from the table and one from the chair with both hands. The knives were sheathed before she had finished turning to step over the new short sword.

Sweeping down, she picked up the short sword and then used it to flip the final throwing knife in the air and towards her from the far corner of the room. She sheathed the sword as she caught the knife. Sheathing the throwing knife, she spun, grabbed the dagger from where it lay on the floor, and brandished it in a single motion, ending in a defensive crouch with another throwing knife in her other hand. Stepping forward, she spun and sheathed the dagger and throwing knife together as she straightened.

Not bad, not bad at all. She smiled at what she imagined it had looked like. With so many knives, I might be mistaken for a Blade. Of course, with my cloak hiding some, this will do nicely.

Feeling great, she grabbed her pack and dropped it on the bed. Not much was left out. Still, it took a minute to put everything else inside. Giving the room one last glance, she checked to be sure that the new belt pouch and her pack were properly closed. She slipped her shoulder pouch over her head and let herself enjoy the anticipation of moving up in the ranks.

Today is going to be so much fun. I have wanted to do this for cycles.