__Seasons and Elements__
(_Controlled  by Magic_)
Copyright Tina Hall

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	-[	]-	____-200____	..			

"We have to take her back to her people." He almost looked up, but then closed his eyes, just caught himself from taking a deep breath. It was warm, dry, but the cave's walls were far too close. He returned his gaze to the scarred young Breeder on the ground. The girl lay as if merely sleeping, her scent nearly gone completely. Jeahnira, their just as young Priest was healing her injuries, but the boy couldn't draw out her mind. 

"If we approach the softies, they'll think _we_ did that to her." Jeahnira's mother replied. 

She would know, he thought, and he wouldn't put it past them. They had never gotten on with those neighbours, but there were others that would react differently. "Let's at least circle round and try to warn others. We don't know whether any of our Lords made it." he tried again. Sitting here wasting time wasn't in his nature. 

"You know what it took to get here." 

That was true. They wouldn't survive crossing the mountains, and if his idea of the terrain was at all correct, it would take them at least a year to circle around them to get to the nearest tribe. It had taken years to catch up, trailing the warped ones, and then they had almost run right into their grasp. Only Jeahnira's skill had prevented them from being discovered. 

Maybe they should have gone in the other direction for help, but that would have taken even longer, and would have meant abandoning those that were left behind by the warped ones. He had already abandoned too much. 

They had picked up this girl like the others, and now wondered what to do with her. Some of his own females were in no better state. 

"What if _they_ are already there when we arrive?" she continued. "We don't know where they went, and you know how fast they can travel. We can just hope those wet sods get a grip on themselves and warn the other tribes." She obviously didn't think any of their Lords had made it, either. She looked at her son. 

Jeahnira shook his head. "I've been trying to get hold of one of their Priests for the past fifteen years, that isn't going to change just this moment. Might as well try to catch a dream." 

That didn't mean the young Priest would stop trying. Jeahnira had tried to contact those that had fled, too, without success. The boy's mother had said that it was amazing enough that he had reached anyone who wasn't a Priest. She hadn't spoken what they both thought, that apart from his Warrior sibling, the only one the boy had managed to contact was his father. 

But the ones that had fled were good Lords, they would hold out and protect what was left of his tribe. They were as strong as his mate. She was the one who took care of his people now. He couldn't, after all those years without the few things that gave his existence a purpose, life. He walked away, down a narrow passage, to flee his nature. 

********
	-Gorash-	____0001____	06	Winter	

Gorash looked from the patiently waiting Warrior back down to the striate in his hand. The message in it tore at his heart, froze his mind. 

He was a Lord, born and taught to lead, make decisions, but how was he to decide now, without understanding? He knew his people, thought he knew the other tribes well enough. 

This matter with the raiders simply made no sense at all. Not for any of them. Some were friends, some better not visited. He couldn't imagine any of them being responsible. 

There had always been squabbles and even wars, the tempers of the different tribes colliding, but they left the families out of it. Now someone, something, didn't. 

After the first farm had been found empty of life, the Lords had rushed to investigate, but found no trace to follow. So they had hastily assembled a small army; a number of Lords and a Warrior or two from the families that could spare them. It was the procedure to meet hostility they knew; tempers clashing between two Lords of different tribes. 

He didn't know how this was to be met. No one of any tribe harmed children, Breeders, or Drones. No one would rip them out of their home. 

More raided farms had been found in the meantime, were still found. All the raids had occured on the same night as far as they could guess. 

Now he sat in his tent, the camp set up between the outlying farms and the untamed countryside, holding the slim cylinder with another freshly written report, detailing yet another raid, newer than those before. More would be found if this was a repeat of the last time. 

He didn't have to read it again, his mind circled around the core of the message. The Lord of the family, his first mate, his adult son, the Warriors, and the children killed, the Drones and two Breeders gone without a trace. _The children killed._ 

Gorash closed his eyes, felt his heart beat in his chest. Faint noises came from outside the tent; his Warriors and Lords talking, subdued, as stunned as he, the occasional flapping of wings from the drakes. Even the people's footsteps were subdued, weak, as if they would fade away completely any moment. Inside the tent was silence. 

Ansin, the Warrior, wouldn't have an answer either. They aided the Lords, but weren't born to lead. Their decisions concerned their own lifes, small matters in their families. 

Gorash took a deep breath and tried to concentrate, think practically. The Drones in a family did the work around a house, and helped the Lords tend animals and land with more skill than Warriors had at such things. 

He couldn't imagine Kersh, his only Drone child, aid some stranger after being ripped out of its home. It had just fully changed into an adult was looking forward to its younger sister reaching adulthood and setting up a family. 

Even his first mate's Drone sibling would wither, and it had seen seven fine children grow up, still helped with the youngest three. 

They all needed the purpose, the knowledge that they contributed to raising the little ones. Whether the Lords and Priests who fathered them, or Warriors and Drones who couldn't mate. It was the Breeders who brought children to life. It was the Breeders who raised each one according to their nature and caste. 

The Breeders would become completely useless --he didn't like to think of them that way-- if someone tried to force them to have their children. They were sensitive about the environment their children would be born into, even picky about who they chose for a mate. If no male that suited their magic was available, if the conditions weren't favourable, they simply wouldn't heat, and without the heat, a male couldn't respond. 

Taking them away made no sense at all. 

He looked up again at Ansin. As a child, it had looked like a girl, too, but there had been no doubt about its caste even then. The mother knew what a child would be before it was born, the child's temper soon confirmed it. 

Snow white scales now covered Ansin's torso up to its neck, well visible beneath the open white leather waistcoat and kilt, both together marking it as a Winter Warrior belonging to the Winter tribe. Gorash's own were thin lines trailing the just as white skin in an individual pattern, elbow to knee, mostly unseen beneath his white shirt and trousers. 

There was no doubt about what either of them was even without that, the magic in them, determining temper, caste, tribe, their whole nature, would say it without the need to look. But now something no longer respected that. 

His gaze wandered to the message again, the white talons on his hand. 

Breeders had the real magic, the one that created new life. Delightful, confusing, mischievious, sometimes wise children. Little Senim had only just completed its first term, five years. It hurt to think that something like this could also happen to the spirited little Warrior. 

An uneasy feeling had been growing in him, that the things he took for granted, the things he knew, would not only not serve him well, but would be found not so true for everyone after all. It was the only explanation. 

But how to react to the unknown, to motivations he couldn't understand, or even imagine? He worried that meeting this efficiently would need measures that left their own way of life shaken, possibly beyond recovery. 

But whatever it took, this must be stopped. That wasn't done by freezing, caught in doubt. His people depended on him. 

Gorash stood up, motioned for Ansin to come along, and went outside and to the edge of the camp to where the drakes were gathered, resting, or hunting rabbits and other small animals across the wild meadow. 

The ground here and between their white light cloth tents was still mostly covered in snow, the drakes just as white. Home. 

Sermin spotted him and approached, looking sad. The Winter Lord drake understood that something terrible had happened, was still happening. 

Despite the vaguely lizard-like appearence of the drakes, they unmistakably shared a common ancestor in the distant past. The people of the tribes had lost their tails, snouts, and most of their scales in favour of skin countless generations ago, but their Lords and Priests still grew leathery wings when they changed into an adult, though little good for flight they were for most tribes. In turn, male drakes had manes much like the people's hair, and their eyes with the slitted white iris were almost identical. 

In normal times they sometimes went hunting together, and the females often had their children play together. Now, when the army had been assembled, the drakes had felt the need and came from their mountain homes to join them, offering strength and speed. Those that had lost their riders, their friends, were as confused as the people. 

Gorash greeted Sermin with a scratch behind the drake's elongated, pointed ears --another common feature between them-- and turned round to await the other Lords. 

First buffing him in sympathy, then nudging a wing out of the way, Sermin rested his head on Gorash's shoulder, as if to say that he could count on his friend. From there he watched the Lords approaching. 

They knew what the report had said without him having to tell them. His face alone said enough. "I will need to see this for myself." Gorash said when they had stopped in front of him. 

They swallowed heavily at the thought of witnessing the butchery in person. One spoke what many would be thinking. "We've all seen the other farms. Why again?" 

"Because we were all too shocked to think clearly. More likely as not we missed something." 

Sadren looked thoughtful. "Maybe you should take a Priest with you.". 

Gorash nodded. 

"What good would that do?" Kersin asked, "There's no healing to be done." 

"A Priest's eyes might see differently than mine.", Gorash replied calmly. He knew that Kersin was still just too shaken to think straight, much like many of them were. None of them knew how to meet this. 

Kersin stared dully, helplessly at the ground. 

Gorash looked at Ansin, still by his side. "Go fetch Tashen." 

The Warrior turned to the drakes and left, heading for Sinay, its Winter Warrior drake. 

Gorash joined Kersin in staring at the ground, though thoughtful rather than desperate. In normal times, his Priests stayed in the villages or on outlying farms, so they could be consulted or called when needed. They didn't join the Warriors and Lords in a war, who knew enough to patch their comrades up after a fight and could also work some sleep magic. The Priests' skills were too valuable to waste losing in the confusion of a battle, and Winter Priests weren't exactly famous for their skill at healing. Their main concern was countering the effect the people had on the climate. 

This, too, could be something that might have to change, if they were to travel far with the army, following the raiders once a trace to follow was found. 

"Do you want any of us to come along?" Sadren asked quietly, then swallowed, clearly not happy at the thought. 

Brought out of his reverie, Gorash looked at each of them, then shook his head. "A couple of Warriors. Ansin and Jodra." Those two were the most likely to not lose their spirit at the sight expecting them. None of them would squirm at a battlefield, but this was different. They all had a hard time knowing what had happened, seeing it was worse. Things like this simply didn't happen, were unthinkable. But now they did happen. 

"Kersin," he said, "we _will_ put a stop to this." 

Kersin looked up. Gorash didn't try to hide his worry, but he had to be confident in their success, and make sure the other Lords were, too. Nothing would be gained if they all descended into confusion. The Lords were born to watch over others, but the size of their influence varied. Some were weak, and most competent in taking care of only their family. 

They looked up to him, their leader, needed his confidence now. And it seemed to strengthen the other Lords' spirits at least somewhat. 

At the sound of many wings flapping in from the north, they all turned to see a Lord and his Warriors returning from their watch. 

Kersin nodded at Gorash and left to gather his Warriors. It was his turn for the next round and to check on the families living at the farms. 

Somewhat composed again, the relief didn't show on the Lord's face, but Gorash knew that Kersin was glad to get away from the subject and be able to do something even though it hadn't helped prevent this new raid. 

Other groups were circling the tribe's territory, trying to cover the entire border, but that was like trying to circle the Firelake with a handful of people. 

Nothing remained to be said, and most of the others also quietly left to join their Warriors. Only Sadren watched them, his face matching Gorash's thoughts. He, too, gave strength and confidence to the weaker Lords, but could make no more sense of the raids than Gorash. "I'll send Jodra to you." he finally said, and left, too. 

Shortly after the Warrior joined Gorash, Sinay could be seen heavily in the sky. Gorash blinked as he recognized two riders. 

Sermin raised his head from Gorash's shoulder and cocked it to the side, as unused to the sight of two riders as everyone else. 

"Who'd have thought Ansin would ever do something like that?" Jodra asked, smiling. 

Gorash nodded. Not even the two most famous mischiefs of his tribe had ever done that. 

Of course he wanted to get to the raided farm without further delay, but he hadn't thought about how the Priest could be 'fetched' quickly. 

With only one old Winter Priest drake, most Priests went on foot, or in little magic-powered carts that were quite fast, but still no match to a drake's wings, and even less so cross country. Tashen, a Magic Priest born in the Fire tribe, had arrived in one of them about ten years ago, initially heading for the Magic tribe. 

Gorash sighed. He should have thought about that, and wondered again what else he missed. 

They landed with an audible thump, Sinay snorting a few snowflakes, as if indecisive about whether to be outraged at the request to carry someone other than its chosen rider in the first place, or be amused at somehow agreeing to it. Ansin looked slightly befuddled, as if thinking much the same thoughts. 

Tashen looked startled, and after untangling his arms from his vice-grip around Ansin's waist, hurriedly scrambled off the drake's back, obviously happy to have solid ground under his feet again. "My, that was an... unusual experience," he said, brushing his dark reddish-brown hair out of his face with a sideways glance at Sinay, "but Ansin indicated speed was of importance, and this seemed a good idea... At that time." 

Gorash didn't ask whose idea it had been, he knew. Tashen was already unusual for staying with the Winter tribe. Imigration between the tribes was not common, and even when it did happen it was more often between those that had similar tempers. But the young Magic Priest was a welcome addition. Not only for his skill at healing. 

Before Gorash could wonder how they would now all proceed to the raided farm with some speed, a commotion among the drakes drew everyone's attention. They seemed upset, indignant. Bursts of ice and snow quickly covered the air above them in an icy fog. 

Turning his gaze in the direction they were focussing their pique, Gorash spotted a dot in the sky, followed closely by two others, speeding in their direction. The three dots quickly resolved into drakes; a slim, young Breeder chased by two irritated Warriors. 

Gorash recognized the young gray-specled drake as Leen. He had seen her still playing among the children only last year, standing out for not having formed a bond with any of the female children, but not all drakes did choose a rider. 

Leen landed gracefully on the ground beside Tashen and puffed a dainty cloud of cold air at the now circling Warrior drakes as if to say "there, beat you", and settled down with a defiant look at Sermin. 

The Lord drake nudged Gorash out of the way with his head, stepped forwards, and with a growl, spread his wings and bared his rather impressive fangs at Leen for showing up at the army camp on her own. 

She bared back a rather unthreatening set of small teeth, flapped her wings slightly, and then turned her head to gently nudge Tashen's cheek. 

Well, that would settle that problem, Gorash thought. How the drakes ever chose their rider was a mystery, but there was not much even Sermin could do about it once the choice was made. This was merely unheard of, at least in the Winter tribe. No one would have been surprised if a Priest drake had turned up, even if he had been from one of the other tribes, odd as that would have been. 

Sermin looked... almost disgusted. But also resigned. 

"Girl, do you really think this is a good idea?" Tashen asked, stroking her head. With a dubious look at Sinay he added, "I'm not really meant to fly." 

Leen flapped her wings again, and turned her head in the direction they would have to take once they got going, her long neck stretched as if that alone could lift her up. She looked angry and worried. Scratching the ground roughly, turning the rest of her in the same direction, she grabbed Tashen's arm with her scaled but soft fingernail-tipped 'hands' and gently pulled him closer. 

"I guess there's no point in delaying any longer, arguing the inevitable." Gorash said turning around, and mounted Sermin. 

The rest of them got onto their drakes as well, Tashen with an audible sigh, and they took off. 

Seeing Tashen's desperate look, his own light-gray wings spread --and certainly not adding speed, rather the opposite-- trying to keep his wobbly seat, while Leen gracefully balanced her rider's eccentric moves, Gorash thought that maybe it hadn't been such a bad idea, after all. Caring for, and juggling the erratic actions of children with infinite patience was intrinsic to Breeders. And at least in this, Tashen was no better than a child. In retrospect he felt sorry for Ansin and Sinay, their flight with him must have been quite an adventure. 

He doubted that Tashen would fall off as often as he had, when two strong-willed young Lords, one boy and one drakeling, had tried to come to an agreement of who decided which way they would go, and how fast. 

As they approached the farm, Gorash could see the family's drakes, gathered near the forest bordering the back meadow of the house, confused about the loss of their friends. Two of his Warriors stood on the path leading to the yard, and two pairs of drake and rider were waiting on the street. 

Jansha, a Breeder of Gorash's own tribe, which he realized with hope turning almost at once into dismay, belonged to the family that had lived at the farm. Staring at nothing, leaning into and supported by her drake, she still looked too healthy to have returned from whereever her relatives had disappeared to. She must have been away while it had happened. 

He was glad for the two Warriors making sure the young female didn't rush into the house and saw what had happened to her family, and by the look of them they seemed grateful for the excuse to delay cleaning up, too. 

Standing at a respectful distance to the Breeder was a young Lord from the Night tribe, his drake behind him. The lad, just adult for a term, was so dark as to be almost a mere shadow, the black, loose trousers, shirt, and slightly waving cape and long hair assisting the impression. Only the light glinting off scales told where they trailed the skin at the sides of his neck. 

He calmly awaited their arrival, only occasionally blinking uncomfortably at the early morning daylight gathering in his all black eyes, and once quite definitely at seeing the Magic Priest flying in on Leen. 

Gorash and his companions landed on the snow covered street, and after a brief glance at Jansha, seeing that she hadn't yet noticed them, he approached the stranger. 

The young Night Lord, too, glanced at the Breeder, who was now joined by Leen, comforting her, and Tashen softly talking to her and working some subtle magic. The stranger knew as well as Gorash that there wasn't much either of them could do to help her. 

"It's happening here, too." the Night Lord said. 

Gorash stopped, stunned. 

"I went alone to see the other tribes," he continued, "for all are needed for protection. Little good as that does." he added sadly. "The other Lords agreed that it was prudent to warn the tribes and find out whether any others were raided as well, and also, if it so were, which are not." He gestured at the blood-black Lord drake who had been eyeing Gorash and his companions. "It was Mareahn who insisted on coming here instead of approaching your camp. I'm Dahrahn." 

Gorash returned a nod and introduced himself and his companions. 

Satisfied with the hospitable atmosphere, Mareahn took off, together with Sermin and the Warrior drakes, and joined the little gathering of their kin behind the house. 

Taking a good look at the dark drake, Gorash noticed that it was the same age as Sermin, two generations too old to have Dahrahn be his first chosen rider. 

The young Night Lord, responding to Gorash's thoughtful look, explained. "His first choice was killed on the first raid. My own drake helped protect the family of one of my sisters. He was found dead like they." He turned his head to look at Mareahn, the dark drake disappearing inside the forest shadows. "The drakes were as confused about being surprised by that find as they are about the raids themselves." 

Gorash was similarly surprised. The drakes' affinity among their own kind was even stronger than the one to their riders, and if anyone would be able to find a trace or notice _something_, it would be those of the Night tribe. Even the Magic tribe's skill couldn't compare to theirs. But the Night tribe's powers were weakened during the day, and they were most vulnerable in the morning, even if their star wouldn't actually rise on their southern territory for another month yet. 

"Mareahn indicated that he considered taking me, and when I wanted to go visiting the other tribes, it was settled." Dahrahn spoke again. "I was as surprised as anyone else that he'd choose again, and so quickly, but I think he'd have gone off to hunt down whoever is responsible, with or without a rider." Dahrahn looked at the ground and swallowed, clearly not wanting to say more, and Gorash didn't want to press. If that drake was who Gorash thought he was then the Night tribe had lost its best Lord, and Gorash a friend. 

Just when he took a breath to ask a different question, Dahrahn raised his head and pointed his chin towards Leen and Tashen, who, together with Jansha's drake, tried to coax the Breeder towards the little group of drakes behind the farm. He smiled tentativly. "But I see that here things are not quite the same as usual, too." 

Gorash turned the breath he had taken into a little laugh and agreed. 

Tashen joined them, satisfied at having successfully sent off Jansha, accompanied by the two Breeder drakes. He offered small smile with an exaggerated rubbing of his bottom. "I told the girl I'm not meant for flying, but who am I to argue a drake's choice?" 

The humour quickly faded from their faces, and Gorash adressed the young Night Lord again. "Will you share your findings from the other tribes with us?" 

Dahrahn nodded. "So far, your and my tribe are the only ones that I know are raided. I left warnings, but only the Lords of the Air and the Water tribe listened, and said they would try to set up some precautions and send some Priests to my tribe to try to help out. I found no trace of the Summer and the Fire tribe, but I didn't venture too far into their territories." 

Not finding the nomadic Summer tribe wasn't surprising, hardly anyone ever knew where to look for them and only luck would have a visitor stumble upon one of their groups roaming the steppes, but the Fire tribe wouldn't leave their volcanos for the most fertile pasture and the most promising hunting grounds. At best one got the odd one getting curious about other tribes and visiting them, but that didn't happen too often in any tribe. 

"I'm a little surprised you didn't send someone over to the Spring tribe," Dahrahn went on without a pause, "it's only on the other side of the Firelake, after all. But I guess you get along with them as little as I did. They ignored my warnings, wouldn't even tell me where I might find someone to talk to. Even without a proper leader there should be someone." 

Gorash frowned. That they hadn't listened wasn't surprising, but as little as they got along --and the temper between them was responsible for the Firelake staying warm even in winter, and becoming unbearably hot during summer-- he couldn't imagine they were behind this. 

Not only that they weren't organized and all doing as they pleased, their flittery attitude made the notion of them actually killing anyone next to impossible. They hardly ever got even just irritated, never mind enraged. They simply ignored anything that would spoil their mood, and walked away from things that would upset them. 

Dahrahn shook his head as if he knew what Gorash thought and agreed. "No, I saw no indication that they even knew what was happening, and I did look closely. They just didn't want to listen to me." 

Gorash had no doubt that the young Night Lord was indeed able to look very closely, and without any of the Spring tribe noticing. He also had no doubt that the Spring tribe would have listened even less to his own people, in all likelyhood it would have just resulted in another squabble between them. But in truth, it hadn't yet occured to him to find out whether other tribes were raided --or not raided. 

They each tended to their own matters, and due to their different natures there was little reason for interaction with the others, though they would need to be warned. And right now a little more contact would be preferable; he could have his Priests contact those of the other tribes once they knew who to look for. But none of them even knew his friends at the Earth tribe. 

"I haven't yet visited the Earth or Autumn tribes," Dahrahn said and nodded at Tashen, "nor your birth tribe." he added, the 'birth' more a question. 

The Priest was plainly marked as belonging to the Magic tribe by his deep violet eyes and talons, and the scales of the same colour peeking out of his white tunic collar on the side of his neck, trailing his light gray skin. 

At that, Tashen gave a grunt and a shake of his head. "I'd be interested to hear more of what you have to say about the Fire tribe's vanishing without a trace. Later." 

Dahrahn just nodded, the daylight becoming visibly tiring. 

Better if the lad got a break from it, Gorash thought. "I want to have a look around here and see what we might have missed. You can head down to our camp, for refreshment and rest, if you like." 

Dahrahn thought about that for a moment, then shook his head. "I'd like to come with you, see whether there is something different here. Maybe they took other precautions against your magic." 

'Other precautions' was the polite way of saying 'less', Gorash smiled ruefully. The Winter tribe's lack of even the most common magic was well known. 

Flashing a guilty grin of his own, acknowledging the thought, Dahrahn finished, "And the longer I wait, the fainter any trail will become." 

He had a point there. Despite regular checks and visits between the farms, they weren't sure whether they had found all the raided homes yet, and it had been a full day before anyone had found that another raid had occured. Any trail that could be found would at best already be only lukewarm. Nodding, he set off towards the farm, followed by the others. 

****	
	-Dahrahn-	____0001____	..	Winter	

As they approached the square white buildings of the farm, Dahrahn felt the air growing warmer, tighter. He had never sensed anything of the sort at home, but the light of their star never touched their homes either. He had rarely ventured out onto the surface during daylight for any reason, and then only while it was still faint, before most of the tribe would migrate to the other pole for another months-long night. On this trip, he had found shelter each morning, so he wasn't sure whether it was just their star steadily rising in the sky, warming the air and casting everything in an ever increasing glare. 

He wasn't sure what the reason was, but Gorash steered him in a slight arc instead of straigt towards the open door. Dahrahn kept his eyes on the ground, that was bad enough. It shimmered, seemed to flow like water but changing direction constantly, out of focus. He was glad when they entered the shade of the main building, at least until he laid eyes on the first body, all colour gone save that shown by the faint light reflecting off it. 

A half-grown child Drone, struck down, split open by something sharp from behind as it had been fleeing from a room a little way down the hallway to the right. The dried, black blood on its white skin and scales gave it the queer appearence of being patchwork made of bits from the Night and the Winter tribes. Patchwork not quite finished, for the wide open wound down its back. 

Dahrahn closed his eyes, not to the sight --he had seen plenty of the same at home, had found his own parents and siblings after the first raid. While the shock had lessened, the sadness never did, but neither emotion would serve well in finding those responsible. It had taken a while to focus on that, willing himself to ignore the loss of a part of himself, and instead focus on finding something that would help track down the cause. 

He felt the air to see whether he could sense any hint on what was behind this, vaguely aware of the Winter Lord talking with his Warriors. At home, the air had always been swept cleaner than a kitchen floor tended by an over-enthusiastic Drone. Here the air was oppressive, sultry, and despite closed eyes it still seemed too bright. 

Opening his eyes again, he noticed Gorash's questioning look and shrugged. "I don't know." After explaining what he had felt, he continued, "But that might just be me being tired and weakened. You should better know whether the atmosphere is anything out of the ordinary." 

Gorash grimmaced. "This seems quite normal for this time of day and season." 

They both turned to Tashen who had nodded at Gorash's judgement, and now looked thoughtful. "Have you noticed the lack of flies and other vermin who feed on death?" 

They nodded, so Tashen went on. "I can't sense any cause, but there must be something that keeps them away." 

Dahrahn nodded again. "Whatever they do to hide themselves, it also removes or hides whatever would lure the vermin. Apart from the dried blood, this looks fresh. When did it happen?" 

"The best estimation is sometime between midnight and dawn, the night before last. It was discovered early this morning by one of the groups checking on the farms." Gorash said. 

"At home, they strike in the second quarter of a full turn." Dahrahn confirmed; their weakest hours. "Have they struck your villages yet?" he asked. 

Gorash swallowed. "No." he said, no doubt wondering how they should protect their villages as well as the farms, when their numbers already weren't sufficient to cover the border, and each family's own Warriors had proven to be not enough protection for them. 

If only they knew in which direction they should guard, the Winter tribe's Warriors and Lords would be numerous enough to ward off an entire other tribe's concerted war effort. Unless that other tribe was Dahrahn's own, or at least how it used to be. Dwindling as it was, it would soon hardly need any effort to ward against despite their magic, he thought sadly. Their magic, while normally leaving his tribe unbothered by war, hadn't helped against the raiders, and now they might end up accused. 

"Gathering your people in one spot won't do, either." Dahrahn guessed where the Winter Lord's thoughts were headed. "Even if you would gather the families into the bigger buildings. They hit the communities of the older people along with the families with children. They come in, somehow, do what they came to do, and leave, taking the Breeders and Drones with them, hitting more and more homes every other morning. Leaving those watching and guarding as dead as those they wanted to protect." Dead, or withered if they had guarded their friends and families hidden from the sight of others. Whatever the Priests who had tried to reach them had seen, it left them just as withered. Perhaps they would have fared better with a Lord like Gorash backing them, but none were left. 

The Winter Lord shook his head, not knowing an answer to that. "Let's see the rest while we're here." 

Accompanied by a faint, violet light that Tashen conjured up for himself and Gorash, they poked their heads into the kitchen to their left, and found it empty and cleaned up for the night. Same for the cleanroom to their right. In the last room on the ground floor, the one the little Drone had wanted to flee, they found the remains of the family, save those missing. It seemed that they had all gathered in the living room to spend the night together but not where they would be expected to be resting; the furniture had been pushed aside to make room for freer movement, and there were cots on the floor near the wall separating this room from the cleanroom. It hadn't done them any good. 

As the Winter Lord and the Magic Priest crowded the doorway together with Dahrahn, careful not to step on the blood around the child Drone, Jodra and Ansin indicated that they would check upstairs. Dahrahn couldn't blame the two Winter Warriors for not wanting to take a closer look into this room. 

At the sight of a half-grown, dead Lord who had obviously tried to protect the adult female sleeping on the floor, back turned to the door, Gorash went to them and gently pulled the dead child off the still figure, pried loose small but strong hands. There was no need to turn her around, but Dahrahn understood the need for confirmation. By her age, she must have been the Lord's first mate. A Breeder killed instead of taken away could only mean one thing. Gorash slowly let his hand wander over the slight bulge on the female's belly and let out a low growl. 

Dahrahn had seen this before, too, knew the helpless rage that Gorash must be feeling, felt an echo in himself even though this wasn't his tribe. Pushing that out of his mind, Dahrahn continued to study the room. 

The fear on the Breeder's face, and the way she had held on to the child while reaching out to two little Warriors --hardly a term old--- that had been sleeping on the other side of her, said that she had had just enough time to wake up and realize what was happening. 

The Lord of the family appeared to have been struck down first, while standing in the middle of the large room. Surprise was visible on his face. Two older Warriors, likely the Lord's siblings, were lying near the wall on either side of the door. Another, about the same age as Dahrahn, was on the floor on the other side of the cots, hand outstretched, reaching for something to release its gathered magic into. The stone beneath the Warrior's hand had cracked, too, as if from intense cold. 

The eldest son, old enough to seek his first mate and set up his own home, or in more normal times watch over this while his father was busy with something else, had fallen on top of the older Lord, then slid off. The look on his face was more puzzled, incomprehending, than anything else. Just like those at home, the dead, and the survivers that didn't understand what had happened. 

"They didn't come through the door." Dahrahn pointed out, then studied the ceiling without finding any indication that they had come that way. The younger Lord had clearly been standing with his back to the door, facing his father. 

Maybe this was a new approach, or they had gotten careless in concealing the fact that they got in some other way. It did explain how the little Drone had gotten through the door, however. 

Gorash got to his feet and turned around, his expression calm and determined. After considering the placement of the dead, and the direction from which the blows must have come, he agreed with a nod, but then his face softened again into sorrow, and his gaze wandered back to the Breeder on the floor. 

"Why don't you come outside, out of this gloom." Tashen suggested to Gorash, plainly striken himself, but still true to his Priest nature. 

Gorash stared at the Magic Priest for a moment with an unreadable expression, but then nodded. "Just don't try to cloud my mind with some magic." 

"I won't." Tashen agreed quietly. 

Before Gorash stepped past Dahrahn into the doorway, he stopped, frowning at the floor. Dahrahn looked down, too, and concentrating to make out anything unusual in the light, he noticed small drops of dried blood. Considering the shape, it was too far away to have come from any of the dead. He crouched down and reached out with a hand to feel it. The magic was long gone, but the physical properties were still present. "Cold. Fresh, clean. Female. Not yet adult for another term." He looked up to Gorash, who supplied a name. 

"Seera." 

Getting up, Dahrahn looked around again. The room was a mess, the furniture was smashed, the fireplace broken in. Someone had been very angry. Unsure of whether the others knew the difference, he pointed it out and added, "They only ever do that when they don't get all they came for." Which would explain the Winter Breeder that had been waiting on the street with her drake. By her age, she could have been the Lord's second mate. That in turn would explain why they had taken the girl, Seera, instead of killing her like the other children. They rarely took Breeders or Drones that weren't grown up yet, and must have been desparate to take at least one female with them. 

"Nothing upstairs." Jodra said as it and Ansin came back down the stairs at the end of the hallway. "The bedding is missing, but apart from that it looks like it might any other day." 

Gorash half-turned to look at the cots again, but caught himself. "The bedding is here." 

"Outside or the cellar next?" Jodra asked. 

Gorash gave Dahrahn an enquiring look, and he agreed, "I'll check the cellar." 

"Come on outside then." Tashen said to the Winter Lord, and put a hand behind Gorash's arm. 

"I'm shocked, not an invalid." Gorash grumbled, and strode outside without the Magic Priest. 

Tashen stayed behind, smiling after the Winter Lord, perhaps realizing that Gorash would be better off without 'coddling', of which Dahrahn remembered his own tribe's Lords accusing their Priests. He turned to Dahrahn and tipped his head towards the rear of the house. "Jansha. She often goes and helps out her sister, a young first mate that has had twins for the second time, and out of term, too." 

Dahrahn could imagine the young Lord of that familiy torn between joy at the little ones, and worry over seeking a second mate so soon, which would help out with the children, but would also naturally add more. That relatives of the Lord and the Breeder took turns helping out was the common solution in normal times. He could also imagine young Seera enjoying the increased opportunity to practise 'mother' on her siblings, while her half-mother aided the young family. 

He took a deep breath. It felt as dead as the people here were. He closed his eyes. Emptiness. 

"Dahrahn?" the Magic Priest asked, worried. 

He looked at Tashen, tried to smile. 

The Magic Priest reached out to touch his cheek, sent strength and something else that ordered, cleared Dahrahn's thoughts off the gloom he threatened to descend into again, without actually meddling with his mind. Tashen let go and smiled. "I'm no Autumn Priest, don't worry. This is just something my father taught me. He's an Earth Priest." 

It wouldn't be quite the same as he had taught his son, due to the difference in their magic, but whatever it was, Dahrahn was grateful for it. 

Kneeling near the child Drone, Tashen started inspecting the dead in a professional manner. 

Dahrahn watched as the Magic Priest's nimble, light-gray hands turned them this way and that, felt skin and scales in various parts, not always gently, but always with some subtle magic, probing for more than hands could feel, sometimes shaking his head. He finished by tracing the wounds that nearly split the bodies, down the front, side, or back. 

"Apart from the wounds, there's nothing wrong with them, not that they aren't bad enough." Tashen said as he cleaned his hands with magic. "I'm no fighter, but they seem to come from something awfully sharp. And it's not magical, or magic-enhanced, as far as I can sense, but neither is there anything material indicating the cause. No traces of a knife or other weapon." He got up and looked at Dahrahn. "But I'm coming to think that there might be some magic neither of us can detect." 

The tribes could hide the use of their own magic, but with something like this, the effects should still be felt by a Priest. 

With a dismayed look, Dahrahn headed for the kitchen, which held the stairs to the cellar. He had nurtured a small hope that this unusual Magic Priest could somehow spot something his own tribes' Priests hadn't. 

****	
	-Tashen-	____0001____	..	Winter	

At first, Tashen had doubted Gorash's quick trust of the Night Lord at a time like this, but then conceeded that Gorash was a better judge of character in this case. It was almost like looking at a younger version of the Winter Lord, darkened only by a deeper magic. He would make a fine leader for his tribe one day. Not many Lords could be restored by the little magic Tashen had worked, and it wasn't seeing the dead here that had troubled Dahrahn. 

Following him to the front of the house, Tashen wondered how odd it was that the two tribes on opposite ends of the spectrum got on so well, had so like tempers. 

He didn't understand how they could be cold and distanced, and at the same time deeply moved and enraged, or warm and gentle. These traits were true for both the Night and the Winter tribe, unlike others he knew and had met. 

Tashen liked, and cared much about the Winter people, but he sometimes wryly thought that he liked the climate even more. The ever clean and slightly cool air that permeated their entire territory, extending even partway over the Firelake, all year round, up to the wall of dense fog that went, as if drawn by a hand, straight through the middle of the lake. 

He had ventured to the other side of the Firelake once, and on the Spring tribe's side had found his senses bombarded with smells and colours and sounds. There seemed to be chimes attached to every branch, door, or window, jingling out of tune. The streets were laid randomly in differently coloured stones, and the buildings themselves defied any description, leaving Tashen to wonder why anyone living there for any length of time didn't go either insane or blind. He had idly wondered that, since they obviously weren't blind, maybe they were insane, and that's why they had no sense for order. 

The people were friendly, open, cheerful, but it all seemed to occur on a superficial level, and some had been a bit too friendly for Tashen's taste. 

Even in mid-winter, as it had then been, the bitter cold air smelled of blooming flowers and fresh grass, with neither anywhere in sight. But that wasn't the worst of it, and certainly was preferable to the brimstone stench he had grown up with and fled as soon as possible. What bothered him was that their females seemed to be in constant heat, with never a break. 

The Spring males and females seemed to have no interest at all in those of the opposite gender when it didn't concern mating, and weren't much interested in just chats with visitors of their own gender, as if everyone different to the people they knew was also only interesting when it concerned mating. 

He received more than one invitation, which wasn't what he was used to, but he didn't mind and just declined politely, even amused. On a rational level he knew that the mortality rate of their children was frightful during winter, despite their magic, or maybe in part because of it, and this was the only way they could keep up their numbers. Not that he could add to their numbers --they would quite likely think Night children spooky, too-- but the motive for their behaviour was deeply buried in their nature. 

He did mind the effect their scent had on his subconscious, urging him to agree against his mind's decision. His body responded, the overlapping scales protecting his reproductive organs opening up, only still held closed by his waistband, and ready to do its part while his spirit would be carried away by that of the female. 

When he was accosted by a young Breeder, with a child on her arms that had hardly finished half of its first term, he didn't ask what had happened to the father of the kid, he just stared at her and then left on the straightest path back to what he had come to think of as his home tribe. None of them seemed offended, or even to think much about his reaction. 

Gorash had been amused when he told him of this experience, bringing Tashen to smile at it as well. "At least you didn't start another squabble." the Winter Lord chuckled, and gone on to explain that similar visits by their own young, curious about their neighbours, tended to lead to violence, and quite a few bruises and the occasional broken arm or nose. 

The young Winter Lords were never amused or polite in their refusal, and nearly always managed to spoil the flittery mood, as Gorash called it, of the Spring tribe, to which they then didn't react well, though it never went as far as any of them using magic and starting a war that way. 

In a similar vein, the occasional trips by adventurous Breeders tended to end in two groups, one from each tribe, yelling at each other, incomprehensible of the other's way of life. Which, again, 'spoiled the Spring tribe's mood'. And the Drones, Priests, and Warriors, while not causing strife themselves, all too happily joined in the shouting matches and brawls, respectively. 

Visits going the other way --their neighbours weren't above curiosity-- went much the same. No amount of telling the young people 'look, they're different, there's a reason why the Firelake never cools' prevented these trips, or their result, when their borders were so close, and neither tribe had any inclination to move elsewhere. 

Tashen felt sympathy for the Night Lord and his encounter with the Spring tribe, especially at a time like this. He moved more by rote himself, trusting, willing the Lords to know how to meet this, waiting for them to tell him how he could help. He didn't know, couldn't bring himself to think about what he had seen in the living room, though he knew he should write the details in a striate, incase it was needed. 

Outside, he saw Gorash and Jodra squatting opposite each other along the path to the barn, Jodra talking animatedly with the occasional comment by one of the other Warriors, also studying the path. 

"Stay right where you are." Gorash said when he spotted Tashen approaching them. 

Tashen did, and turning his attention to the ground as well, took a wide step to the side, over the prints visible on the dry, sandy earth in the yard, kept free of snow. He remembered the Warriors waiting at the farm pointing them out when they had approached the house. 

"What do you see?" Gorash asked as he rose and walked over to join Tashen. 

Crouching next to the path, Tashen reached out and felt the ground with magic rather than merely looking at it, and traced the outline of the footprints, hardly touching either. Examining trails with eyes and experience was something more for Warriors and Lords, and in that they would see more than he. 

"Not made by your people." Tashen agreed with what the others must have found. Scooping up the air above the trail as if it was earth or water, he brought it close to his face and sniffed it. "Unpleasant." he said, pulling a face, blowing out air through his nose with some force. "Can't say what exactly it is, just that I'd rather stick my head in the waste bucket." He shook out his hand with a disgusted look and washed off the smell with a tingle of magic. 

He remembered something the young Night Lord had said and concentrated on the ground away from the path, analysing the familiar from a stranger's view. "And it is too warm, if only slightly, the difference is there." Someone from the Fire tribe would be able to tell at a glance, but Tashen had had his senses trained by those very people, too, first of all his mother. 

"Come, let's see what you find in the barn." Gorash said. 

They went to the barn staying off the straight path. Inside it was quiet, and far too clean-smelling for any place where the Winter tribe's white pigs were kept during the night. The pigs were gone. 

"Any tracks I might step on in here?" Tashen asked, looking at the stone floor. 

Gorash shook his head, so he slowly went down the aisle, trying to find something mere eyes didn't see. As in the house, there was not the slightest whiff of any kind. No self-respecting dung-bug would come even close to the little manure the pigs had produced over the night before they had been taken away, and even the most sensitive magic sparkle would find no fuel here. 

"At home, they rarely took anything but people, but we don't keep cattle." Tashen heard Dahrahn say. 

From what he knew, their territory wasn't suited to keep animals, in their underground caves or even on the surface. There should be wild animals living in the everlasting snow, but he hadn't given too much attention to the lessons about the Night tribe, and only knew what the Winter people and an occasionally visiting Night Priest had told him. 

When he turned around, after reaching the end of the aisle, he was taken aback by how tired and weary the Night Lord looked. Only one term younger than Tashen himself, Dahrahn now almost clung to the doorframe of the barn like a very old Lord. He had seemed much healthier when they had been in the dark house. Tashen hadn't realized how straining daylight really was to them. 

"Let's head back to the camp, we'll talk this over later." Gorash said with an arm around Dahrahn's shoulders above his wings, not quite supporting him, but more like a father would take his son for a walk and a chat about their caste's peculiarities and some advice. 

Tashen followed them slowly, giving the barn another sweep, looking for anything he might have missed, but found nothing. 

As he left the barn, the two Warriors waiting to clean up the farm had already vanished into the house to gather up the dead and take them to the nearest village's Priest, their drakes waiting outside. The drakes, too, seemed to think that something was wrong with the path leading to the barn, snorting snow and ice, trying to cover it. 

Gorash looked on, shaking his head. "Would _you_ tell them to not destroy the only trace we found?" he said to Sermin in exasperation as the Winter Lord drake was landing by his side. 

The drake sniffed the trail, then bared his fangs and added a cloud of ice of his own. 

The ice and snow melted, too fast for the season, and raised a foul odour that had the drakes back off, outraged. 

Dahrahn turned to Tashen and spoke in a drained voice. "If we work together, I think we can preserve the trail while removing that which is offending the drakes." 

Tashen thought he knew roughly what the Night Lord planned, and looked round for a rock big enough to hold the scent. After finding one suitable to the task they went to work. Tashen drew the rancid smell out of the ground and air above it into the rock, like he would draw a sickness or a poison out of a patient. He then lent strength to Dahrahn, who hid the smell, so anyone who held it wouldn't end up retching, and added an intricate illusion of the footprints that weren't yet covered by the melting snow and ice, with a simple, visible trigger to release the image and smell. 

Helping Dahrahn to his feet, Tashen looked round to see the others, including Jansha, mounted nearby, and also the two Warriors waiting in the doorway of the house, without their grisly burden. They had all been watching their performance with interest. 

He hadn't seen Leen among the drakes in front of the house, and as he turned to look behind it he could hear her squaking --he couldn't think of any other way to describe the sound-- at the forest bordering the meadow behind the house. 

Except for her, the meadow was now empty, the gathering of drakes already far in the sky. Leen's squaking was quickly answered by a roar, at which she scrambled to turn round and scuttled off, wings flapping, in Tashen's direction. 

After a moment, Mareahn emerged from, or rather became visible just inside the forest, not happy at being woken during the day, but then he spotted Dahrahn and lifted off to fly the short distance, arriving before the guilty-looking Leen ground to a halt in front of Tashen with no grace whatsoever. Drakes were no good at using their feet to walk, never mind run. 

With a faint smile on his face Dahrahn patted the girl, then turned round to mount Mahreahn. 

Not thrilled at the prospect of yet another flying experience, Tashen climbed onto Leen as well and they took off, back to the camp. 

****	
	-Gorash-	____0001____	12	Winter	

Gorash sat at his desk again. This time Sadren sat on a folding chair across from him. There was only one possible defense he could think of that also agreed with the individual needs of the castes. He knew what he had to do, and Sadren would take good care of his tribe. Now Gorash had to tell him what he thought might be a way to protect his people, and Sadren would like it no better than Gorash did. 

"I'm separating the families." he said. 

"What!" Sadren exclaimed, startled. 

"Yes, separating them. I want Breeders, children, Drones each in their own groups, and out of their homes. We have to split the families into these groups, at least for the time the raids all appear to happen, get those out of the way that aren't the main target and concentrate defense on those that are." 

"The Breeders are the main target." Sadren mused. "Dahrahn said the Drones staying in their northern homes aren't raided at all." 

Gorash nodded. The young Night Lord had supplied more detail before he had settled down to get some rest. "I have turned this over and over. There are three places we can put them; here among the Lords and Warriors, the drakes here, and the drakes' caves. But there's only one distribution that works." 

It was Sadren's turn to nod. "You can't send the Breeders or their children to the caves. They'll have to stay within reach of each other, and with the Breeders the main target, you'd endager the drakes' families. The Drones would just feel useless here, too." 

"My thinking." he said. And while the Lords and Warriors would not fight less for the Drones, they might fight just a little fiercer if they were to guard the females --once they had a chance to fight. Gorash hoped that they would get that chance, and this wasn't just making things more convenient for the raiders. 

"The children will stay here, with the drakes." he continued. "They might see it as an adventure, and it's only at night. During the day, the Breeders will be joined by their children, and the Warriors can tend the farms --if they remain intact-- as well as they may, bring in food, and taking turns with us at cooking." The Warriors weren't too good at farming, and little better at cooking, but Sadren didn't object to that. He knew that somewhere in the distant past, agriculture was what had the Drone caste emerge from the Warriors'. 

Gorash explained the rest of his idea to Sadren, and ended with, "The Breeder drakes should find some way to keep our Drones happily busy." 

There had been an amused grin on Sermin's scaled face when he had suggested this to the drake. If he had to, Gorash could order his own people to do anything, but the drakes always did their own thing, which just happened to agree with the people most of the time. Two different entities pulling in the same direction rather than a single bigger entity. 

"How are you going to get the Drones to the drakes' caves?" Sadren asked. "If they walk, it'll take weeks. If they don't get lost, that is." 

He smiled. "Sermin flew off after indicating that it shouldn't be a problem." By the speculating look the drake had given Leen and Sinay, he could guess what ideas those two had put into his friend's head. "So I'm not worrying about that. What has me worried is that all this could just work into the raiders's hands, if we don't find some way to turn surprise onto our side, once they turn up. However they do that." 

"If you're planning to put them, Breeders, Warriors, and Lords, into those monstrous tents you're having errected on the fields, numbers should be on our side." 

Gorash shook his head. "No, they're just decoys. I'm hoping the Priests will come up with something." He had a list of what he would like, but no idea whether the Priests, even with Tashen, and assisted by their young visitor from the Night tribe, could fullfil even half of that. 

"I've asked Tashen to send out a request for their presence here." he added. He had also sent out Warriors to bring messages to all the families, to pack, and what to pack. Fortunately, keeping food fresh was not a problem for the Winter tribe, so he had given orders to butcher as much of the cattle as they could carry away, to the drakes and to the camp here, and chase the rest off with their feed stored and left outside for them away from the farms. That was better than leaving the cattle to the raiders. The animals were used to the climate, and wouldn't have any difficulties with spring just starting on the next day. 

"Arm the Warriors and Lords." Gorash went on. The children didn't have the full offensive magic of the grown Warriors and Lords yet, and the smallest had none. But as crazy as little children sometimes appeared, even the smallest knew when to behave, as sure as their caste. They would handle the weapons responsibly. 

It took a moment for Sadren to realize which Warriors and Lords he had meant. "Separating the families is bad enough, but this..." 

"They will fight whether they have a weapon or not." Gorash pointed out. Sadren knew that. "Give them knifes, cleavers, whatever is the right size. With some luck they won't need them." If the raiders didn't turn on the little ones. They still wouldn't stand much of a chance against an attacker, even with weapons, but even a hardly noticable increase in the odds was better than none. And there were still the drakes who would defend them as fiercly as they would their own little ones. 

Sadren leaned back, dismay plain on his face. This was unheard of, but Gorash's friend could see that he was right, understood the reasoning, and just needed to hear it out loud. "In that case, we might as well try to train any Breeders that are willing to learn, and once they won't accidentally stab themselves, arm them, too." 

That surprised Gorash, but he nodded. A Breeder would fight with what she had for her children, but they had less to fight with than most of the older kids themselves. 

He wasn't surprised that Sadren didn't suggest the same about Drones; while adult Drones had the magic, and one might try to stuff them into Warriors' leathers, one couldn't make them defend themselfes or hunt with any skill, and no amount of training changed that. If left to itself with the garb, a Drone would likely just sew it into tool-bags, or so went the tales. Gorash didn't really believe that, but he wouldn't entirely put the attempt past some Drones he knew. 

Jodra stuck its head in through the tent flap. "The first families are arriving." it announced. "By the look of them, I think they'd like an explanation." 

Gorash nodded, acknowledging the Warrior's message, and looked at its father again. 

"I'll spread the word." Sadren said. 

They both rose and went outside. "Do you have anything to do, apart from burning for an explanation yourself?" Gorash asked, putting an arm around Jodra's shoulders. 

The Warrior, all innocent, shook its head. 

"Let's greet the newcomers then, and do some explaining." He turned to the people already on the ground, more drakes landing behind them, and smiled, his spirit lifting at the sight of his own family being with the new arrivals. 

Kevra, Gorash's tall second mate winked at Jodra. The two of them had grown up on neighbouring farms and had been famous for mischief, the tales of each latest trick travelling the entire tribe, even reaching the more distant part where Gorash lived. 

The girl, the last child of her own parents, and one term older than the Warrior, had claimed she was 'looking after the kid for practice', or 'kids' after they had begun drawing Ansin into it. That the serious little Warrior, a term younger than Jodra, had had a knack for spoiling their mischief had never stopped them from taking it along whenever its mother allowed it. 

Right now, Kevra and their daughter combined still didn't seem half as impatient for an explanation as Jodra did, but instead looked around curiously at the goings-on in the camp. 

Gorash swallowed. Lishay, his youngest daughter, was just as old as Seera, starting the fourth term of her childhood and the change into an adult. The first scales could be seen forming on her upper arms, left free by her Breeders' vest, but more prominent was the change in her scent and magic, saying that in five more years she would be an adult Breeder. 

Asrin and Lanar, Gorash's eldest Warrior and youngest Lord, both adult for a term now but still staying with his family, were unloading the drakes together with Kadra, one of Gorash's Warrior siblings. The other was already staying with the camp, and now likely back at their house with the Drones. 

Sanar, his first mate, was busy with their youngest offspring, Senim, who tried to climb from its half-mother's arms over her shoulder and back onto Keela, the drake they had flown in on. It had little luck in that for lack of a hand-hold on her tight white leather vest and short black hair. 

"Flying high over clouds!" it announced, pointing at the sky and looking at its half-mother as if she had missed the trip, despite holding the little Warrior on her lap during the flight. 

"Wow." she replied. "And what did you see up there?" 

Gorash grinned. 

"There aren't any clouds." Gerin, his half-grown Warrior pointed out. 

"If there were, we'd have flown over them!" was Senim's earnest reply. "The houses and trees were all small, like toys." it informed Sanar. "No birds. They all got scared and hid." it added, nodding. 

Not as impressed by the whole matter as it would likely have prefered to ride its own young Warrior drake here, Gerin turned round and spotted Gorash. "Did you catch them?" 

"Not yet." he answerd. "That's why you're all here." 

"Not all here." Senim said, meaning Kersh and the two older Drones of their family. 

"That's right. But that's also why Keela can't take you on another ride. Kersh and the others will be visiting the drakes in their home, and they can hardly walk all the way, can they?" He looked from Senim to the other children that had come with their families, now gathering around him while the Breeder drakes took off again. 

The older Lord and Warrior children were watching him, attentive, while the Breeders, mothers like daughters, kept an eye on the smaller ones about to run off to play. The older Priest children were looking around the camp, taking note of the people, tents, drakes, or were quietly talking to younger siblings that just stared at it all, big eyed. 

It was more by their character and dress that they could be told apart; if not for their Warriors' leathers, the Warrior children would look like boys and girls, just as the little Drones here, those too young to leave their mothers, would look like boys if not for their short white robes. Other clothes wouldn't change what they were, though there were strange tales about other tribes, like the Summer tribe dressing and training their rare Drones as Warriors. 

"How would you like to play with the big Warrior drakes?" he asked Senim, then looked at the other children again. "You, too." 

The smaller ones that were listening to him nodded, some turning to the herd, waving, or reaching for them from their mothers' arms. 

The older Lords and Warriors were more likely to take an interest in the camp and defenses, just as the older Breeders and Priests were more concerned with keeping the growing horde of smaller kids under control, but they understood the reason for sending them away so the adults could talk. 

Their mothers were a bit skeptical about the 'playing' on the part of the drakes, too, but knew they had nothing to worry, and let the little ones run off towards the herd, followed more slowly by the not so small children. 

As soon as they were out of earshot, Asrin walked over, looking worried. It stopped right in front of Gorash and spoke in a low voice. "I went home to pick up a few things, but found everything smashed, and no trace that anyone or anything ever lived there. Something's swept our house clean, and was very angry that no one was at home." 

Gorash swallowed again. The rest of his family had just not been at the farm because they had all invaded his house in the village on a surprise visit once again. He had only built that house after Kevra had joined his family and brought them all to the village, to 'loosen up whatever Lords do all the time' at random intervals. Some of the other Breeders had picked up the habit, so he had built it large enough to house their families, too. 

The families of his strongest Lords, those he met with in the village to talk about needs and distributing surplus, how much each Lord's people still had in their cellars at the end of winter. The very kind of Lords that had been killed on the first raid at the Night tribe. Jansha's mate had at times been one of them, when there had been something to say about his village. 

Perhaps Kevra's odd ideas had not only saved his own, but other families as well. He turned to Sadren. "Have someone check your farm, and those of the Lords that were at our meeting." 

His friend nodded, looking as striken as Gorash felt, and left to carry out the request. 

Gorash took a deep breath, then put a hand on Asrin's shoulder. "We're here now, and we have a plan." He turned to the gathered people again and explained the situation and his idea, then told them to spread the word. 

"You're asking quite a bit." Sanar said once the other families and Jodra had left to inform the next arrivals. 

She and Kevra were looking at the herd of drakes, or rather their children, with longing, while their own Warriors headed off to store the luggage. 

"I'm not asking." Gorash replied. 

Sanar turned to look at him. 

"We've got a visitor from the Night tribe. They're being raided for a month now." Gorash told them, and added what Dahrahn had mentioned as not working to protect their tribe. 

"If those raiders count on us sticking to the family structure, they're sure going to be surprised." Lanar commented. 

"That's the thought." Gorash confirmed. He saw Tashen moving towards them but stopping at some distance, and nodded at the Priest to approach. 

With a sideways glance at Kevra he hesitatingly walked up to them. "Most of the Priests should be here by late afternoon, but there's something else." he said. "Have you considered the Breeders in season?" he asked, with not quite a pointed glance at Kevra. 

Gorash took a deep breath and looked at her, the question plain on his face. But it's not even spring! Their Breeders shouldn't heat again before the next winter, though there were always irregularities, like the one at the farm who had gone into season a year before the others. 

She also had already born five children, so he had expected the frequency to at least drop. Sanar had stopped heating after Asrin, her fifth child. 

Of course, Priests had a better nose for this and would know before anyone but the Breeders themselves. Whether that was so the Priests got a slight edge, or because they were concerned with healing, Gorash didn't know. Knowing beforehand did give the females the time to look for a suitable mate, if they hadn't already set up or joined a family. 

Kevra just shrugged and took a deep breath herself. "Maybe Tashen here, or the Priests he mentioned, can come up with something." The puzzlement obvious on Gorash's face, she continued. "To prevent me from running off to join the Spring tribe." She grinned. The threat wasn't serious, but it got the meaning across. 

She wouldn't be the only one, and the longer it took to get to the root of these raids and set things straight, the more there would be, Gorash thought as he observed their numbers growing by ever more families arriving. They already covered the fields around and beyond the tents that had been errected for their little army, almost as far as he could see even without Summer eyes. This was family matters, and he didn't like to interfere with it. On the other hand he couldn't afford the couples separated from the others when they were most vulnerable. 

"I probably could come up with something, with enough time, but I think your own Priests are better equipped for that." Tashen said more to Gorash with only a glance at Kevra. "I'm familiar with what the Priests brew for my mother, but she's a Fire Breeder." 

Looking at the Priest, and how he stood as far away as possible from Gorash's second mate while still being part of the little group, he gave a short laugh. "Relax, I'm not going to eat you just because you're male and talk to my mate in her present state. I'm not a drake." 

"Or of the Fire tribe." Tashen suggested, now also smiling. 

"Or of the Fire tribe." Gorash agreed. Their hot tempers had them overreact to any male that even just talked to their mates when they were in heat. It explained why the young Magic Priest hadn't visited the last time Kevra had been in season, though. 

"A male of the Fire tribe wouldn't really eat you for that, would he?" Kevra looked from Tashen to Gorash and back, amazed. 

Sanar raised an eyebrow and looked in the direction of the drakes again, the Lord and Warrior drakes this time, obviously wondering about strange behaviour of drakes and other tribes alike. 

"Well, probably not, but it doesn't matter what happens to you once you're dead, does it?" Tashen replied. 

"Raving avalance!" she exclaimed, grinning. "If people are tearing up other people, the least they could do is eat them, to get some good out of it." 

"Come on, Ma," Lanar said, hooking one arm beneath one of Kevra's and Sanar's each, "let's find something more to your liking, before you give further sound advice." 

Still grinning, she let herself be led away. 

Sanar smiled, likely thinking that getting away from 'Lords' stuff' was a good idea. Telling either that a death by magic left the catch, or person in this case, uneatable, was truly not all that wise a move. Breeders had no interest in those things, and tended to turn anything they were told upside down, especially Kevra. 

"Speaking of the Fire tribe." Tashen said to Gorash, "I've tried to contact my father, but got no response." 

"So it's not just the outer westen regions of their territory where people are missing." Gorash mused. "Did you try any of their other Priests?" Asking him or one of the Winter Priests to try to reach Milayn for news would do no good. The Night tribe was too far away. The only ones whose connection never broke across any distance were twins, Lords and Priests alike. And Dahrahn didn't even know whether the Night Priest who sometimes visited the Winter tribe was still alife. 

"Reaching them was always tricky for me. They're like..." Tashen floundered to find the right words and gestured. "It's like trying to catch hot air with your plain hands. Your Priests are more like snowflakes. Or icicles." he grinned briefly, and Gorash had to smile, too. "Easy to spot and easy to touch." Tashen went on. "With the Fire Priests, half the time I didn't know whether I was even looking in the right place, and when I did catch one, as likely as not I got singed." He sighed. "I did try, but found nothing. And my brother used to be able to notice me poking around, looking for him." 

"Come, let's find something to eat. There's something else I wanted to ask you." 

"And I need the excuse of a full mouth for not answering straight away?" 

"Well, yes, but I'm also getting hungry." Gorash replied. They went to one of the fires where Warriors were preparing food for the nearby people, and collected a bowl of stew and some bread each. 

Tashen looked worried when he noticed that they were heading for Gorash's tent. That meant it was definitely official, though Gorash mainly prefered the more private environment to give the young Priest time to think over his request. In normal times the lad wouldn't be so uncertain at this, either. 

Once they had settled down, Gorash told him. "I'd prefer to have you come with us." 

"My choice?" Tashen asked. 

"Your choice." Gorash confirmed. 

Ordering him to join them on their trip wouldn't be fair. If Tashen refused, he would have to leave the tribe for good, so the only alternative left would be to come, even grudgingly. And that, Gorash thought, would not be desirable for their purpose. Staying with the tribe, if he wished so, the young Priest would still contribute to their defenses. 

They ate quietly, and after they had finished, Tashen summed up his thoughts. "What good if I stay here, and at the worst see my home dwindle to nothing, when you think I could better help preserve it by accompanying you?" 

Gorash nodded, relieved. Tashen's decision again confirmed that he was the right choice. He must have inherited an unconventional streek from his father, an Earth Priest leaving his tribe to live with the Fire people, and possibly his mother for agreeing to have his father take over her family. 

Few people ever looked beyond the immediate and familiar. They each in their own way were rigid in their ways, only the traditions varied. That the Winter tribe ended up being 'famous' for it came more from associating them with the season. Frozen, unchanging, cold was what came to mind, with at best glacial change. 

After hearing how the Night tribe met the raids, Gorash wondered whether his people were even close to being the most rigid. That didn't change the view others had of them, however. And that, he hoped, was their advantage. 

Just as they were rising, the tent flap flew open, and an impressive figure in flowing white robes and hair strode in, grabbed a chair, put it next to the desk and slumped into it with a sigh. Spotting the empty bowls, he pulled a face. "Do you think I could have some of that? I need to grease my old bones. They creaked and groaned almost louder than those of that bad excuse for a drake. Would you believe it? Salmar had me walk half the way, saying he needed to rest!" 

Gorash knew as well as Tashen that if they had indeed walked half the way, they wouldn't have arrived before at least another week had gone by. 

Ansin had come in on the heels of the old Priest and, spared the trouble to announce Slavek's arrival, left right away to get him something to eat. 

Gorash sat down again and motioned for Tashen to do likewise. "The exercise doesn't seem to have done you any harm," he said, smiling, "and I'm certainly glad you're here." 

"Hmf. Boy, I hope you know what you're doing, because I doubt anyone else does. What's this about gathering all the girls and the babies here and hauling the fussers off to sweep caves?" Slavek asked. 

Considering that Slavek could almost be Gorash's great-grandfather's great-grandfather, his terms for the younger generations weren't surprising. 

"To give them the best protection possible, under the current circumstances. Some of the 'girls' are going to have difficulties, however." Gorash explained the problem with the Breeders in heat. Defenses would come later, when the young Night Lord would be able to add his own suggestions and magic. 

Ansin arrived with a bowl of stew and some bread for the old Priest who dug in, considering what Gorash had said, while the Warrior assumed its usual almost statue-like posture. 

"You kids know starflakes." Slavek said to Ansin between two mouthfuls. 

The Warrior nodded. 

"I'll need, say, two or three baskets for a start. Blossoms only." 

Ansin, silent as usual, turned and left to carry out the request. 

"See," Slavek explained, "tending the girls individually would soon become a task taking up all our time. Better to bind the magic in a fitting herb, to pass around." 

Gorash knew the blossoms of starflakes --named thus for looking like black snow crystals with a brilliant white core, the blooming bushes sparkling like a night-sky-- served well as a mild sedative, inducing a refreshing sleep, even if that sleep was frequently interrupted, without knocking one out for hours. The outer flakes could be used for the opposite effect, usually brewed into a black liquid, while the core alone would put one to sleep for good. 

It grew in abundance on the Winter tribe's territory, throughout the year except for summer. The only other place it grew was inside the Night tribe's caves. 

"What about Leen?" Tashen asked. "We don't know how long this trip will take." 

"That kiddie is coming with you?" Slavek asked. 

"She's bound to, since she has made up her mind about hauling our friend here around." Gorash replied, indicating Tashen. "She's no longer really a kiddie, either, this year." Going by her behaviour during the day, she wouldn't be needed to be asked to come with them. Considering her caste, she had done a pretty good job of inconspicuously mingling with the Warrior and Lord drakes as if that was her place. 

She hadn't caught anything as far as Gorash knew, but then, she hadn't gotten in the way or outright chased off their prey either, and the Lord and Warrior drakes were always happy to share their catch with a female or a drakeling. "But I'm not so sure Sermin would agree to any measures in that direction." Gorash added. 

"If he remembers that Leen is actually a direct descendant of Salmar, he might even hope that some of your Priest-ness will rub off on any unborn offspring and bring them back to that line." Slavek said to Tashen. 

Gorash blinked, he hadn't known that Leen was related to the old Priest drake. While he knew all his people and most of the drakes at least by name, and the Priests kept track of the the finer details in their regions, Slavek was a walking encyclopedia of all their family trees, including the drakes'. And what he didn't know was stored in his histories. 

"Do you think that's actually possible?" Tashen asked. 

Slavek shrugged. "Who knows. You are Magic, too. I wouldn't dismiss the possibility outright." 

Tashen sat back, looking thoughtful. 

By the time Slavek had finished his meal, Ansin, Jodra, and two other Warriors brought in the starflake blossoms, the flowers kept fresh by a faint lair of cold magic around each one, without which they would have fallen apart at a touch. 

"Ah, wonderful!" the old Priest exclaimed. "Now, if you would be so nice and fetch some of my boys to help with this. I suppose you'd like to stay, too." he added to Tashen. 

"Definitely." the young Magic Priest replied. 

Gorash knew that Tashen had often tried to pick up some of the Winter tribe's own magic, with little success, but that didn't keep him from taking every opportunity to try again. 

"If you don't mind, I'd like to stick around as well." Jodra said, always curious. 

Slavek wasn't surprised and just told the Warrior to, for once, try and not be overly 'helpful', and so Gorash left them to their task. 

****	
	-Dahrahn-	____0001____	18	Winter	

Dahrahn woke early, while their star was still fully visible just above the north-western horizon. 

He left the darkened tent, but after one look around he stopped, wondering whether he was still dreaming, despite the certainty of being able to tell the difference without error, so strange was the sight. The other smaller tents of the camp had been taken down, leaving nothing to obscure the view. 

Around the fires were... people. Having supper. 

His nose rather than his eyes told him what was wrong with the image. He could smell what they were, but the adult Breeders, instead of wearing the customary tight breeches and vests that wouldn't snag or tangle little fingers, especially still soft-taloned ones, were wearing the loose kilts and long waistcoats of the Warriors. 

The waistcoats were still held closed by the single button at the front, as was rarely done, but Dahrahn had to look twice to visually tell them apart from the Warriors that had their hair cut as short as only Breeders normally wore it. To add to the confusion, some Warriors had changed their dress for that of the Breeders, or the short white robes of Winter Drones. 

But besides some children, there were no actual Drones. And if this was to work out, it would need more than simply disguising the females, or they might end up as dead as the families that had tried that at home. Still, gathering them all here out in the open not only also brought all the Warriors and Lords here, it also meant that any raiders that might try their homes would find nothing. 

The little ones, looking normal, ate with varying enthusiasm, being distracted by the unfamiliar surroundings, and inspected their mothers' changed clothing, or regarded others' with calculating, thoughtful looks. Only the girls didn't seem much intrigued by it all, and were more concerned with their siblings not forgetting their supper over all the exitement, or chasing after those that were done eating and treated the camp as one big adventure to explore. 

The lack of most scales down the front of the Breeders' bodies, and their movements, also revealing that the waistcoats weren't merely hanging loosely but were well filled at the front, was obvious on second glance. Still Dahrahn stared in wonder at the sight. 

"You, boy," one of the older females called when she saw Dahrahn, "come here and have some sup- Um... breakfast." She sounded just like his mother. 

A Winter Lord about the same age as Dahrahn and obviously related to Gorash turned round at the Breeder's words, and spotted him as well. The Lord grinned and shrugged, obviously used to the same words applied to him. 

Dahrahn approached them, smiling. When he had settled down with 'breakfast', they introduced themselves. 

"The old boy should be around shortly." Sanar said while gently preventing the little Warrior on her lap from succeeding in unbuttoning her waistcoat, as it was busy trying to peek at Dahrahn through the loop from behind it. 

At Dahrahn's puzzled look, Lanar explained. "Gorash. He and my Ma, along with some Priests, are going round making sure the people understand the necessity of preventing the Breeders going into season at this time. Old Slavek, one of our Priests, came up with something that'll dampen the symptoms." 

Considering the age of most of the youngest children, that seemed like a good if rather strange idea to Dahrahn. Looking round at the oddly dressed camp again, he began to think that his own tribe could have well used someone of Gorash's inventiveness, but the best Lords had been killed in the first raid. Others that could have rallied and assembled their wits had been caught on the following ones, as if the raiders were deliberately shearing the top off. 

"Half of this is your fault, reporting the measures that didn't work." Lanar pointed out with a smile, as if guessing his thoughts. "There's bound to be more that the old Lord is planning to have this turn out better than what your families tried." he added. 

Dahrahn nodded, grateful that they didn't enquire about his own losses to the raids and just made him feel as part of their family. For the first time in weeks he felt almost comfortable, though they couldn't replace what he had lost. They were worried about what had happened, but there was none of the fear that had been in everyone's eyes at home when he had left after pulling himself together as best he could, to at least try and do something. Here the Lords were still confident, the Warriors calm or spirited, and the Breeders trusted the others to take care of the problem while they cared for the little ones. 

"We went flying today!" Senim told Dahrahn, having given up on its futile task. 

"Seen anything interesting?" Dahrahn asked. 

"Noh, was all too small. Like this." It held its hand up, forefinger and thumb pressed together, and peeked through the little hole the position produced between its small talons. 

Dahrahn bent closer, also looking through the opening. "Sounds like it's much better down here, then, where you can see things up close." 

The little Warrior lowered its hand and frowened at Dahrahn, then leaned back against Sanar with a yawn and looked around, obviously pondering the merit of that suggestion. 

Not much later Gorash, Tashen, a female that Dahrahn assumed was Lanar's mother, and a number of Priests and Lords joined them. 

"Glad you're up." Gorash said with a nod to Dahrahn, and after he and the others had settled down, the Winter Lord went on, directing his words to the Priests and him. "What I'd like you to come up with is first, some way to disguise our volunteers here, so they'll be mistaken for Breeders even after several hard looks and a good whiff. Second, pretty much the reverse of that for the females. Third, some kind of traps to spread around the whole area, preferably something that's not triggered by our own people. Fourth, if at all possible, some way to alert us to the prescense of strangers before they're on top of our people." 

The Winter Priests, unfamiliar with any sort of war magic, defensive, or offensive, went to work their thoughts in that direction with some obvious effort. Dahrahn knew that traps weren't normally used by most tribes, either. 

Only the Autumn tribe had the habit of evading fighting alltogether by pulling out of their capital and leaving it behind empty and trapped to confuse any invaders. The invaders, usually the Fire tribe that didn't get on at all well with their neighbours, then reacted by burning down the entire city. Returning home, they would find regions of their own territory --emptied in preparation for battle-- trapped as well, by the Autumn tribe sneaking past them, and both sides ended up restoring things to normal and forgot or lost interest in what had caused it all. 

"Hiding the Breeders' scent is not a problem." Dahrahn said. That and dressing them wrong was one of the things some families in the Night tribe had tried, too, "redirecting it, however, is. For me." He looked at Tashen, who replied with a thoughtful, "Hmmm..." resting his chin on a hand. 

"Icicles." one of the child Priests blurted out and had Tashen look up briefly, startled. The others turned their attenion on the boy. "Can't you sort of hang them in the air to go boom," it went on gesturing wildly, "like Tashen's sparkles do? Just really big and only on strangers?" 

"Hanging them in the air would be a problem." an old Priest replied. "Things have the tendency to fall down." 

"Drakes don't." a child Warrior pointed out. 

"Well, that's true." the Priest said, and sighed, shaking his head. 

"So we just have to get these icicles to fly, somehow." another Winter Priest pointed out. 

"Not like drakes but by manipulating the air around these icicles..." another mused. 

"That shouldn't be too different from drawing cold out of the air, or keeping the ground and the wells from freezing..." yet another Priest spun on the thought. 

Dahrahn watched as they went on theorising about that, with soon some experiments to follow, much to the delight of the children, most of all the little Priest that had made the suggestion. He wasn't forgotten, either, but encouraged, along with the other child Priests, to try to find the right turn of magic together with the adults. 

As it was getting darker, the Breeders began picking up the smaller kids, some already fast asleep on their laps, and brought them to the resting places that had been prepared among the drakes. 

Tashen came to sit next to Dahrahn, still in thought. "I should be able to mask their appearence with an illusion almost as well as you, certainly with the clothes assisting it, but that only fools the eyes, not the other senses. How do you do that hiding?" he asked. Dahrahn explained, but the Priest just shook his head in dismay. "That doesn't help, even if I understood all of that. I could maybe disguise two dozen Warriors, but nothing of this range, in the time we have. That would take weeks." 

"Does it help that they'll be staying in those tents?" Gorash asked, indicating the huge tents that had been errected on the fields. 

Tashen stared at Gorash, then turned to look at the tents, and grinned. "Yes, it does, indeed! I'll just mark their interior. I'll need some of your females denoting some blood. They'll have to come along so it's fresh." 

They waited for the Breeders to return and Gorash asked for volunteers, with Tashen adding, "Preferably those of you in your prime, and not under the influence of the starflakes." In reply to Dahrahn's questioning look, he explained their purpose. 

The plant also grew well in his home territories, and unaltered would assist any Night magic done, if affecting it at all. 

Before the Magic Priest went off with the volunteers, one of the Winter Priests approached Tashen and Dahrahn. "We need a drop of blood from you two, so you'll not trigger the traps." After that was taken care of, the Magic Priest and his little crowd of females left. 

Dahrahn, too, needed a few things from them, though from a broader range. 

**	
	.Dahrahn.	____0001____	..	Winter	

"I hope there's something left of us once you lads are done taking off bits." a fairly ancient Breeder said, grinning, while Dahrahn cut off a little of her short hair and bound the magic in it. 

"I certainly hope so." he replied with a smile. 

The next one waiting was Jansha. She seemed calm but distanced, her thoughts far away. Despite that, she held out her hand for Dahrahn to clip her already short fingernails after he had sat down next to her. He wasn't sure what caused her too calm composure, the magic Tashen had worked on her or something else, but the way she stared straight at him but at the same time looked through him, made him a little uneasy. Taking a closer look, he wondered out loud, "You aren't planning anything?" 

She looked at him sideways, then, while he took a sample of her hair. When he was done she put a cool hand against his cheek and said, "Yes." with a faint smile and a wink, then rose to leave. 

He frowned up at Gorash, who had been watching them and now stopped her. 

"Oh, come on," she said, "you _know_ I wouldn't endanger the tribe." 

"I know you wouldn't intend to." 

She stared straight ahead, at his chest. After a moment's contemplation she took a deep breath and looked up at Gorash's face. "I am not going to do anything out of the ordinary without telling you about it first." 

Gorash just stared back, trying to read her intentions. 

"At the moment I'm only thinking. That's allowed, right?" she said, a little exasperated. 

At that, Gorash grinned. "Of course." he replied and let her go, only adding, "Just don't forget to tell me the result of your thinking. I can certainly use whatever ideas people come up with." 

Dahrahn watched her leave, relieved. Breeders weren't stupid, but they never concerned themselves with anything beyond childcare, so their experience in matters concerning any other aspects of the family, never mind the whole tribe, was zero. Gorash telling her that he would listen to her conclusions or ideas didn't really reflect the changed circumstances, but only that he knew that females had a brain, too. At such a confused time, Jansha would feel better for the confirmation, and as a side-effect, would indeed talk with the Winter Lord first instead of doing something rash. 

Dahrahn finished collecting the hair and fingernail clippings, then ground them to a fine dust, working in the magic that would not only hide the dust, but everything related to it --all the adult Breeders' scent in this case-- in the vicinity of where it would fall, the magic hidden from anyone but Night people. 

They hadn't found a way to actually add the slight scent of Warriors or Drones without it interfering with the magic he worked. But everything he knew suggested that the raiders had come because of the lingering scent of the Breeders. 

Once he was done, he sent a mental tug to Mareahn, who acknowledged the request and shortly after landed nearby. With the aid of the drake, Dahrahn spread the dust around the large camp cirling the huge decoy tents and circled in turn by the drakes. The dust itself wouldn't adhere to people, but fall off and root itself in the ground. The snow had been removed so the earth was bare and most of all dry. 

By the time he returned, Tashen had started working on the illusion that would adjust the features of the Breeders within a certain area, depending on what clothes they wore. That seemed the simplest kind of key. 

Dahrahn joined him and added his own skills to the task, surprised that adding his Night magic to Tashen's simply mixed with it into Magic, something Dahrahn wasn't sure how to manipulate. But the Priest's skill was sufficient to work the illusion, and this was more efficient than simply lending strength. 

The Winter Priests seemed to have finally come up with a way to 'hang icicles in the air', too, as they approached Gorash with a number of double-laired bubbles. "The only problem we have with these now, is that they don't have enough 'boom'." 

Gorash reached out towards a bubble and drew on his own magic, creating a forceful explosion of magic ice shards inside the inner sphere, waiting to be released. 

One of the Winter Priests passed his hand through it, and nothing happened. "There, we can place them everywhere, and needn't worry about our own people being hit. Though you two," he said indicating Tashen and Dahrahn, "shouldn't be anywhere near one when it does go off. We're not sure it'll simply pass through you." 

With a warm smile and a nod, Gorash acknowledged the happy but by now rather tired half-grown Winter Priest that had come up with the idea. The boy and the other remaining children were led off by their mothers, while the adult Winter Priests, accompanied by their Lords and some Warriors, went off to spread traps throughout this part of the camp. For the other parts, the Priest here would simply have to pass on what they had done. 

Gorash had stayed, and now turned to Dahrahn. "Where had you planned to go next?". 

"The Magic tribe." he replied. "After that the Earth and Autumn tribes, and from there another attempt to find the Fire and Summer tribes. 

"Would you like some company?" 

"Very much." Dahrahn knew that he was sliding into place, accepting Gorash as the tribe's leader, his leader, just as he would have had they had been born to the same tribe. But he was glad to have the weight taken off his shoulders. The remaining Lords of the Night tribe had pretty much lost their heads after the strong ones had been killed. When he had left, they had still been struggling to suppress the panic that had grabbed them, and try to find ways to protect their people. 

The Priests worked to calm the Lords, but they couldn't replace what had been lost when the unimaginable happened. No one killed children or Breeders, or took them and Drones away against their will. No one killed Warriors and males in their sleep, or anywhere else outside tempers clashing, and even then it never hit anyone not willing to fight. 

Even the Summer tribe, the only ones that to the best of anyone's knowledge never had Priests, only slit the throats of those that they couldn't help with other means, to end their suffering. And there were things to be said about the Summer tribe that many would object to. 

Mahlin, the leader of the Night tribe, had once suggested that Dahrahn should go and visit them one day and see for himself whether things really were as bad as the rumours claimed. 

But Mahlin had been killed on the first raid, along with those who could have followed. Those who had led the tribe before him were killed not long after. The remaining Lords had decided that all of them would be needed to protect their families. They were too afraid to leave them. Dahrahn no longer had a family, and felt that they had to do more than just sit and wait, with never a chance to react. Some were already defering to him, despite his age, but he felt too young to carry the responsibility for all his people. And Gorash wouldn't forget the Night tribe. 

"We'll leave tomorrow, after noon, travelling through to midnight. That gives each of us the chance to get some proper rest during our weakest hours while the other watches. Tonight, we'll see whether we get any unwanted visitors, and how our defenses work out if they do turn up." 

If the pattern of 'every other day' held, then the raiders would indeed appear. 

Tashen and Dahrahn released the illusion. That done, they looked around, astonished despite knowing what to expect. A group of people were coming towards them from the drake herd. _Obviously_ Warriors, except Dahrahn knew they weren't, and he could see his own magic working to hide their scent. If the Magic Priest hadn't worked the illusion hidden to anyone not born to the Magic tribe, he would have seen beneath that, too. 

Even their movements, the way they walked, seemed hardly off, unnoticable unless one was looking for it and had the time to look closely. Their faces hadn't changed much, but features never differed greatly between the castes, and no one who had not met them before would know what caste any of their faces belonged to. None of his other senses told him that they were anything but Winter Warriors. 

Sanar sat down next to Gorash, who stared in wonder at his first mate. She poked him with an apparently taloned finger, the white talon disappearing right through his arm. "I just hope the little ones aren't going to have bad dreams because of this." 

"You can join them during the day, rather than have them enter the camp." he replied. 

"Hmm... I supposed we could have the food brought out there, too. I heard drakes don't like their tails roasted on open fire." 

Gorash chuckled. "Trying to build a fire among them would be quite an adventure, indeed." 

Kevra sat down on his other side and leaned against him. 

"How do you feel?" he asked, putting an arm around her. 

"Strange. Like in a dream when you know you've got to get somewhere but can't find it, but also knowing it's a dream, so it's not frightening, just odd. A bit like knowing you've forgotten something." She shrugged. "It's allright. I know what's missing, after all. This," she tugged her waistcoat, "is rather interesting, though. Who'd have thought Ansin ever gets the chance to return the favour." She grinned. 

Ansin, still dressed like a Warrior, regarded Kevra with a slight smile. 

"I admit, remembering that bit of mischief has played into this." Gorash said. 

"You never know what might come in handy." Jodra grinned, then nudged Tashen. "If you didn't see your magic working on them, would you be able to tell the Warriors in those tents from Breeders?" 

"Not without a probe, as long as they held still. Their own scent is hardly noticable." 

They all sat for a while, in quiet conversation or just enjoying each others' company, before the Breeders and Tashen rose and joined those Warriors and Lords that had already settled down on bedrolls on the ground to get some sleep, the Priest weaving some magic into his bedroll to keep it warm just as he had done for Dahrahn. 

****	
	-Gorash-	____0002____	04	Winter	

<end of excerpt>