Untying the thin cord fastened to the arrow's fletching, Martin removed the folded, yellowish-white letter and slowly opened it. A line of small writing leaped into view:
"The granary's guard will be slightly lax tonight. Seize the chance to act. If you succeed, the chief credit will be yours: a thousand gold, and the woman shall be given to you."
That single short line set his heart ablaze. Especially when the final words caught his eye, Martin felt his heart quiver, the longing opening every pore in his body...
He had first seen Yenaier three months ago. She had arrived in Sand City less than four months before that, following her uncle Xibizete onto the battlefield.
At first, he had not even known such a woman existed. Every day, he worked the bellows, refining and smelting iron at the forge. Though dull and monotonous, his days had been peaceful. Each time he opened his eyes, another day began.
Then, one evening, his master White happened to mention her. He said she was beautiful, indescribably beautiful, yet possessed an extraordinary martial bearing. He said he had never known a woman like her could exist.
Martin said he did not believe him. Women were either beautiful or ugly, either handsome or alluring. How could beauty possess such martial spirit? He simply could not believe it.
White promptly made a wager with him, telling him to find some time tomorrow to go and see for himself.
The following afternoon was pleasant and languid. Martin would never forget how fiercely his heart had pounded when, hiding in the distance, he caught sight of that face in the army camp. Only then had he understood that martial grace and beauty sprang from the same source, blending into one. That distant face had merely made their