When writing a story it is easy to forget that a story is a path to a new and mythical place. A place that the author steps into without much thought but to share that place with the readers takes a certain amount of creative flourish.

Baenia's story takes place on Nors-Galtic. It is a precursor to the Duchesses of Light and Dark. Think of it in the same way as the Hobbit is to The Lord of The Rings Trilogy. I've written many different scenarios for the world of Nors-Galtic. It has its own pantheon of gods and goddesses as well as a rich history of faith and life. While working on the Duchesses of Light and Dark series I realized that there was much that needed to be explained but wouldn't fit into the realm of Laila and Sula. 

This book is about their history and it will answer many questions that Laila and Sula (and my readers) have. 

Baenia felt water dripping onto her cheek as the sound of men shouting in the distance bombarded her ears. The wind struggled against leaves heavy with early morning dew but it still managed to rustle the undergrowth of the southern forest. An acrid scent filled Baenia's nostrils as she sucked in a deep breath. When she opened her eyes it was to a kaleidoscope of  movement. Men ran back and forth to the background sound of swords clashing. It echoed against large moss covered tree trunks; a strange harmony to the gently blowing wind. The dark blue of the royal guard's uniforms looked so formal against the ragtag outfits of the Brethren of the Wood. Baenia pushed herself slowly upwards and watched as the fighting surged towards her and then drifted away.

Strewn around her were the remnants of the duchess's carriage. The duchess was no where to be found. The rear guard probably whisked her away before the first arrow hit its mark. Baenia wasn't surprised that the guards left her. She was, after all, a scullery maid. A nameless, faceless servant who was expected to do as she was told. The southern woods weren't safe but the duchess had had to go to that little town to buy a rare jewel. Were the lives of twenty men worth that jewel? Baenia sat up and watched as the remaining guard retreated. She was alone in the middle of no where sitting on a thick blanket of blood soaked pine needles. Beside her was the body of one of the carriage mules. A beautiful draft mule with a bright chestnut coat and white socks on both forelegs. A beautiful creature left to die. The duchess would be more inclined to mourn the death of that creature than the death of Baenia. How sad a state to live in- when an animal is worth more than her.

"You there- what side you be on?" A rough voice called to her. A broad shouldered man with blood covered boots strode towards her and Baenia bit her lip.

"I be on the side of freedom. Wherever I might find it. Who be you?" Her voice came out an octave lower than normal and raspy. Probably due to the duchess's latest punishment.

"Ah, that's new the Duchess now keeps a eunuch as a slave. Well, boy, you're one of us now! On your feet." A dirt covered hand gripped Baenia's upper arm and jerked her upwards. She flew to her feet and stumbled. The world spun sideways and Baenia held back the desire to wretch up her empty stomach.

"Who exactly be you?" Baenia looked around as more blood and dirt covered men stepped into the small clearing. The royal guard was gone. She was alone with the Wild Men.

"We be the Wild Men, The Brethren of the Wood, the Outlaws. Or as we call ourselves- the Wolf Riders." The man who had jerked her up pounded his fist into his chest and the dozen other men followed suit. They howled to the sky and a moment later a chorus of lupine howls responded. The air moved and then a pack of dire wolves flooded the clearing. 

"Let's go, boy. We'll be wanting a story with our evening meal. I'm Bashan by the way. They call me Alpha." With a wicked grin the man picked Baenia up by the scruff of her threadbare collar and deposited her on a large midnight colored wolf. Bashan jumped up behind her and grunted a command. The wolf leapt forward and the forest rushed by them. Baenia was thankful that the Duchess had starved her. The way the man wrapped his arm around her waist made Baenia acutely aware of how perilous her situation was. If he guessed she was a woman he'd force himself on her and Baenia wouldn't have any way to escape. She'd be used until she died. 

The man behind her laughed as the wind gained momentum. The forest thinned and then they were galloping through the wild marshlands of the southern shore. The sky was filled with birds cawing and circling. If she strained enough Baenia heard the crash of the waves along the rocky shore. She breathed deeply and sighed. Home had smelled like this. If only Baenia could return to her home. She'd promised she would return by the third harvest. 

"Ah, we're here. Come Eunuch, met the rest of the camp." Bashan dragged Baenia off of the wolf and into a large canvas covered building. The smokiness inside made Baenia's eyes water. Surely, the men lived in separate quarters. That hope was squashed when she saw the large pile of rolled bed mats. 

"Welcome to the Wolf's Den. A place I'm sure pales in comparison to the Duchess's many palaces but it keeps us dry on rainy nights and warm when the sea grows cool. Come now, you're as white as the sea froth. We don't bite. I promise we don't. We may growl but we have big hearts. Do you know the Seafarer's tale? Oh, I'd love to heard that again. I've not heard it since I was a boy in the northern port towns." Bashan smile was accented by several missing teeth and Baenia held her breath as the smell of tooth rot came rushed out of Bashan's mouth.

Baenia stepped back and nodded. The tent felt too warm. The sounds, smells and sights were too much. She swallowed as her heart pounded against her thin chest. She had to run, to flee. Instead she stood absolutely still. If she ran they'd tackle her and she didn't want to risk them discovering that she was of the fairer sex. 

"I am Fawkens. The Duchess's Eunuch. I've been in her service for three years now and was bought at the fall fair on the western isle." Most of that was a lie. Baenia had been in the Duchess's service for a year and she'd accepted the contract willingly. She'd been whisked away from her family farm by promises of opportunity and court training. All of those promises had turned out to lies. Instead, Baenia had signed a contract stating she would be the scullery maid of the Duchess for three years but the term could change at the discretion of the Duchess. Which meant Baenia was a slave but with a different title. 

"Welcome Fawkens. That means you are three years younger than I am. You would have been in the last auction on the western isle. Around three years ago the Royals purged the place. It's deserted now. They say if you step onto the island the spirits of the dead will converge and devour you. You'll have to tell us about the auction at some point. Tonight, we hear the Seafarer's tale." Bashan smashed his tankard of ale onto an oak side table. The few men in the tent lifted their cups in agreement and Baenia felt her empty stomach harden into stone. The one tale she knew was the tale they wanted. But would it be the right version or would her tale lead to mutiny? The only way to know for certain was to tell the tale. 

As Baenia studied the canvas of the tent slowly filled with the stench of unwashed men and dried blood and sweat. The stench made her eyes water as she fought the urge to dry heave. She was a Eunuch, a boy. They wouldn't react to the smell, or would they.

"Do you men know how to bathe or is smelling like rotted flesh part of being a wolf rider? If that is the case then flay me right now as I don't think I can bare this smell." Baenia put one finger under her nose and waved the other around in the air as she'd seen the Duchess do whenever her soldiers came in drenched in mud, blood and sweat.

"Oh, you Eunuchs are used to the pleasantries of court life. Well boys, we'll be live in a court soon enough looks like we better scrub behind our ears or we won't get a story." A raucous voice