.....the hot summer sun beat down on thirteen year old Tara as she cautiously circled her laughing opponent, a dagger gripped lightly in her right hand. Beads of perspiration were beginning to drip down her forehead, salt stinging her eyes as she blinked frantically...

There! A sudden blur of motion as the laughing warrior launched a strike aimed to smite Tara's head from her body. It would have connected too, had she not ducked under and inside the arc of the greatsword's path, but now he was off balance. Tara grasped the opportunity, lunging forward to slash with her blade, not at her opponent's armored torso, but at his trouser clad thigh, as she slipped past him.

"Hold!"

The command froze both combatants in place, moving their wooden practice weapons to the safe position, as a second, middle-aged, warrior strode toward them across the sawdust of the arena.

"Well done Tara," smiled her father, " that is exactly the sort move that could save your life in a fight against a stronger, bigger opponent. You'll likely never be as strong or as big as your opponent but if you stay calm and use your speed you will do well."

Colm grinned at his little sister " I nearly had you that time, brat" Tara just poked her tongue out at him.

"Nearly doesn't count, as well you know Colm. If that had been real you would barely be able to stand on your left leg now, let alone swing that two-hander you so favor!" warned Darius......

....... a clatter of chains culminating in a sudden jerk to her slave collar dragged seventeen year-old Tara out of her day-dream and back to the unpleasant reality of her present day situation.

Hooded with a rough hessian bag, hands bound behind her back and chained together with what sounded like a dozen or more others she had been stumbling along a rough, rocky passageway for what seemd like forever.