Thena yanked on her calf-length doeskin boots which matched her trousers, a soft taupe. She pulled on her tunic, again the same color. Looking into the mirror, she ignored her sour scowl as she plaited her long white-blonde hair into a single braid.

She dreaded going as far south as Antonia, where the water actually moved, unlike the frozen sea of her native Northland. She often had nightmares about drowning in that strange blue water and she was loathe to go anywhere near it. Besides, the air was hot down there, and although her body was used to strenuous activity, it was not used to profuse sweating.

However, if it meant the release of her innocent brother, she would go. She would go to the end of the earth and capture the devil if she had to. At least this time, the bounty was a simple thief. Not a murderer or rapist. And he was human. Her last bounty had been an insane, drunkard of a Dwarf. The stout creature had been like a boulder, hard as stone and almost impossible to drag in. She'd managed, but at the cost of some hair and a few bruises.

This should be easy, she thought, grabbing her coat, weapons and a small leather sack of provisions. She walked out the door of her tiny, cramped living quarters and squinted as the cold northern wind slapped her in the face. The door slammed behind her.

Her senses came alive and she savored the clean, cold air. Drawing in long breaths and releasing them in slow, measured exhalations, she interlaced her fingers and flexed her arms over her head. An eternal blue sky mocked the frigid bite of the North Wind. The ancient green spruces surrounding the guard's quarters reached their pointed tips to greet the morning sun. It would be a good day.

As she walked toward the stables, she quickened her stride, glad to be outdoors. It had been a month since she'd had to travel far enough to take her gray thoroughbred. Treader desperately needed the exercise and fresh open air. The most activity he'd had in recent days was nibbling the sparse yellow grass in the compound's pasture.

The stables smelled ripe with hay and oats, a smell she'd loved as a child. A memory of her youth came to her. She was twelve, her foster-father calling her outside in the blackest time of the night to witness Treader's birth. It was a magic event, and now, eight years later, Treader was closer to her than anyone, except for her brother.

Since that special night, her life had been turned upside down, but things were looking brighter. She'd have her brother with her again, soon.

She could hear Treader's expectant whinny as he sensed her arrival. When she turned the corner into the dimly-lit stable, she saw his big gray head hanging over the stall door, staring at her with his liquid brown eyes.

Thena smiled. "Hallo, Treader. Want to go south?"

The big gray nodded his head and whickered, nuzzling Thena's open palm. She loved the tickle of his whiskers on her skin and she laughed.

"Well, I don't. But this is our last assignment, and when we catch this bounty, we'll have earned Fabian's release."

Opening the stall door, she stood aside as Treader trotted out. He waited for her outside, his nostrils flaring in the cold, expelling white clouds of steam. Thena fitted him with his bit and saddle, dividing her provisions between two large saddlebags. She swung up into the saddle and touched her heels to his sides. The horse leapt forward, his hooves kicking up dirt as he galloped away.

As she raced past the keep, the imposing stone façade dominated her peripheral vision. A picture of the dark, frozen dungeons underground thrust into her mind. "I'll be back soon, Fabian. Hold on," she whispered before spurring Treader into an all out run.

She didn't look back. If she did, she would lose her composure. Freedom was imminent. Fabian would soon be released, and they would flee to the extreme North, where it was rumored some of her distant relatives still lived. The Dagrathan had no power in there. Nervous excitement tingled in her blood as the Dagrathan Headquarters was left behind.

The first two days of her journey were uneventful as she traveled the well worn path, surrounded by cold blue sky, tall pines and fragrant spruces. Riding as fast as she could without overtiring Treader, she wanted nothing more than to quickly procure Fabian's release.

She passed the time by remembering her childhood, the good times she'd spent with Fabian. Fishing for silvery shiners through the ice, sparring with javelins and wooden swords, climbing trees, and spooking each other with scary stories by the fire.

She spent her nights at roadside inns, falling into an exhausted sleep the moment she settled onto the pallet.

On the third day into her journey, a man appeared on the path, lumbering towards her. When he saw Thena, he stopped and took a wide stance, blocking the way. She wasn't surprised. Confrontations with lustful men were a constant thorn in her side. This would be no different from those in the past.

Lined with trees, the path offered no way to dodge the man. Galloping around him was impossible. And she wouldn't just trample him--it might hurt Treader. She sighed, hating what she would inevitably be forced to do.

"Hallo, lassie." The stocky warrior stood like a big rotten stump on the path, one fat fist resting on his hip. His other massive hand rested on the hilt of a broadsword. "Where might ye be goin'?" His voice was confident, almost jovial. He clearly didn't detect a threat in Thena's slim, feminine figure. She smirked and mentally prepared herself to show him just how deceiving appearances could be.

"I'm on an errand for the Dagrathan." She sighed and waited for him to move. She'd give him every opportunity to avoid harm.

"You? A Dag guard? You're too pretty," he said, his voice full of arrogance. A black patch covered his right eye and he adjusted it in a way to give her a glimpse of the ruined eye socket underneath. Did he think that would scare her? She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"Aye, I am on an errand for the 'Dag,' and it would be very nice if you stepped aside, sir." Her pale eyes pinned him in her gaze and his one good eye narrowed. Clearly, he didn't like to be ordered around. Well, she didn't like being eyed as a piece of meat, either.

"Well, now. I don't think so, lass. I think you're too pretty a dish to pass up." His good eye gleamed with sinful intent, his cocked smile full of wicked delight.

She sighed again. She hated when this happened. Swinging down from Treader's back, she faced the stranger.

The man gave an exaggerated blink. "Oh, yer a tall one. The Old Blood runs strong in ye," he crowed. He lurched toward her in an awkward, bow-legged gait and snagged her wrist.

Big mistake.

Before he could even finishing closing his fist, Thena twirled around and broke his grip while grasping his wrist at the same time. She wrenched it behind his back, forcing him on his tiptoes. With a sharp yank, she dislocated his elbow and he sank to the ground, howling in agony. His now useless arm dangled at his side.

Without a word, Thena swung up on Treader's back and galloped away. In her dust, the man wailed, "My sword arm, my sword arm!"

Although she didn't like depriving anyone of his livelihood, she thought the punishment fit the crime. That scum had probably taken advantage of dozens of women, just as he had planned to take advantage of her. Now maybe he would think twice about forcing his way upon a woman.