Chapter 1, part III

   Ione looked at the Sand girl.
   "You will be a wise queen," she said honestly.
   Olivie looked startled.
   "Thank you. And what will you do without your Prince to marry?"
   Ione laughed. "You know as well as I that I was never meant to marry Decca. He'll soon be King and needs a queen to rule beside him."
   "Queen Rochelle thinks you aspire to be Decca's queen."
   "She does," Ione agreed cautiously.
   "If not Decca, then who?"
   "The King will find someone for me. He's placed old Lord Gareth Haim of Roc's Nest as protector of the Ashlands. When I come of age, Lord Gareth will retire and my husband and I will become protectors of the Ashlands."
   "So you will have your kingdom without your Prince."
   "Both kingdom and prince would be better served by you, your grace."
   "What do you mean?"
   Princess Olivie's words were drowned by a terrible barking. The ballroom was in chaos as Fip, who had grown to a great size in six years, bounded in and pinned Prince Decca to the ground. Beatrise Drake, Ione's governess, dashed after him.
   "No, Fip!" she shouted. "Off! Leave off the Prince!"
   "Fip!" Ione bellowed at the dog as the highborn ladies who had surrounded the Prince screamed. Decca's four Lords were already rushing to help him and Ione gathered her skirts and quickly hurried to do the same.
   "Silence!" Lord Renald Von Garten shouted. When Lord Renald shouted, all listened. Even Fip obeyed the King's guard. Lord Edwin Dreswyck strode from his place beside the King and Queen and swept the dog off the little Prince.
   "Beatrise, Ione," he said seriously, "come with me."

Chapter 1, part II

   Ione sat and watched as her friends danced. Beside her, Raphael blushed.
   "I really am sorry, Io," he said.
   "It's fine, Raph, really. You don't step on my feet that hard. Besides, I've gotten used to it."
   The little lord blushed harder at that. He trod on her feet at least twice at every dancing lesson.
   "Shall I get you a drink?" he asked hesitantly.
   "That would be lovely, thanks." She smiled sweetly at him and he hurried off to the table laden with food and drink.
   Ione turned her attention back to the dancers. Queen Rochelle had invited every young person with suitable rank to the Mountain Court for her son's 10th birthday. Mostly eligible young girls, Ione noted. Hamish spun the Lady Oswyn Hawthorne of Widow's Fall in the Gray Hills. Malachi lifted the Duchess Adelina Swan of the Golden Bay in Stonewater. Gregor dipped the Lady Leandra Lothers of Shrieking Pass in Stonewater. At the center of it all was Decca, trying to decide which of the girls vying for his attention to dance with.
   "Pathetic isn't it?"
   Ione looked up in surprise. Princess Olivie Fuer of the Sandlands stood beside her.
   "What's pathetic?"
   "This." Olivie gestured to the dancers. "All of them, trying to win his favor, hoping to become his bride. They should all know by now that I'm the future queen of the Weeping Mountains."
   "I thought Decca was still not betrothed," Ione said as politely she could manage. She knew for a fact that Decca was unbetrothed. This Sand girl was stirring up trouble.
   "Oh, he's unbetrothed. However, I am the Sand Princess. King Conri has control of his Weeping Mountains and the Ashlands, but it's not enough. He wants more, but before he can conquer, he must stop the invaders at his doorstep."
   Ione nodded. The Sandlands bordered the Weeping Mountains to the south. They were a nomadic people and all trained in the art of war. The tribes moved around so there were always at least two beating at the Mountain people while the others moved further south to recover from their last attack.
   "The Mountain people can hold off the Sand tribes, but not beat them," Olivie said smugly. "My father will only ally with the Weeping Mountains through a marriage alliance. Your King cannot refuse."

Chapter 1

   Queen Rochelle Mackall of Elfwyns Rock glowered as she watched the children approaching the ballroom steps.
   "Was it really necessary to have the girl here?"
   "Ione is one of Decca's closest friends, my dear," Conri told her. "People would wonder if she were not here."
   "I don't understand why you ever brought the girl here. She doesn't belong!"
   Conri was about to reply when the head steward announced the children.
   "Prince Decca Mackall of Elfwyns Rock and his Kingsguard: Lord Malachi Seaver of Swami's Cliff, Lord Raphael Von Garten of Green Valley, Lord Gregor Lewin of Dreadpass, Lord Hamish Fingard of Storm Haven, and Lady Ione Ashes of Little."
   "There they are!" Desmond crowed as the occupants of the ballroom applauded. "The prince with his four lords and the little Lady of Little!"
   Rochelle glared at him. "She isn't 'Lady of Little,' she's lady of nothing!" she sniped.
   "What does it matter to you?" Edwin demanded. "It's just an empty title to make a little girl happy. Leave her alone today, for Decca's sake. You'll ruin his birthday."
   "I'll save him from ruining his life. I don't like the way that he looks at her."
   "I haven't noticed Decca looking at her in any special way," Conri assured his wife. "If he did, I think he might have to battle Gerard's little Gregor for her affections." He indicated the two children dancing in the middle of the room.
   "Why that little tramp!" Rochelle seethed. "She ought to dance with the prince first! It is his birthday after all."
   Conri sighed. "Yes, love it's his birthday. Try to leave the poor girl alone for once, for him. He only turns ten once you know."

Prologue, part II

   When they reached the fort at the center of Great Ashes, Conri handed the child off to one of the serving girls.
   "Clean up the boy and the dog. Bring them to me when they are presentable."
   The serving girl curtsied and did as she was bade.
   Conri turned to the steward.
   "Where is the body of the Ash King?"
   The steward led the Mountain King and his men to Dennys Merrins' death chamber.

   Some time later Conri and his Kingsguard sat at a table in the king's suite.
   "Two hundred years of war and finally the Mountains take the Ashlands. These people seem eager to pledge us fealty, Conri. Perhaps it's time we built up our armies more. There are fourteen more kingdoms out there, just waiting for a new king." Lord Desmond Luthor of Stone Valley looked pleased at the thought of conquer.
   "Most aren't waiting for a new king, Des," Gerard replied with annoyance. "They're happy with the king's they've got. The Ashlands only welcome us because their king was mad and cruel."
   "They see that our Conri is a better king than Mad Dennys," Desmond insisted. "We just have to show the others that he's better than their kings as well."
   "How?" Myron broke in. "By invading their land and murdering their people?"
   "Enough!" Lord Renald Von Garten of Green Valley shouted. "This is not the time or place to be discussing this."
   Desmond looked like he was about to argue when a soft knock came at the door. Edwin, who had stayed out of the argument, rose to answer.
   "Begging your Lords' pardon," the serving girl curtsied, "I've brought the little girl and the dog, as his grace requested."
   "Little girl?" Edwin turned to Conri, "Did you request a little girl, Con?"
   "The child from the street, Edwin," Myron reminded him.
   "I thought that was a boy child."
   "If I might be so bold, my Lord, the child looks quite like a boy. It's an easy mistake to make."
   "Yes," Conri agreed, "easy. Come here, girl." He beckoned the child hiding behind the serving girl's skirts. "What is your name?"
   "No name," she replied.
   "No name? Didn't your mother and father give you one?"
   "No mother or father."
   "I see. Well, we shall have to give you a name. What shall it be?"
   "Call her Rochelle after your Queen," Myron suggested.
   "I hardly think my Rochelle will appreciate having an orphan girl from the Ashlands named in her honor. What about you?" he turned to the serving girl. "What would you call her?"
   "If it please your grace, the girl looks a bit like the old Queen Ione."
   "Queen Ione?" Desmond asked.
   "An Ash Queen from long ago," Renald told him. "She was known for her great beauty and wisdom. The Leafwalk was built as a gift to her from the Ash people." He referred to the walkways built through the trees in the town of Crackling. They ran from branch to branch so one could walk among the leaves.
   "A strong name for such a little thing," Conri said thoughtfully. "I suppose she'll grow into it."
   "It will be good for the Ashfolk to see that their new king has taken a little Ash girl as his ward and given her the name of a beloved Ash Queen," Myron said.
   "Dennys' sister died two years ago. With Dennys dead, the Ashlands have no heir for you to marry off. If the people take to this child, perhaps you can marry a lord's son to her and raise them to protectors of the Ashlands," Renald suggested.
   "Perhaps," Conri agreed. "Do you consider your son a suitable candidate?"
   He laughed as Renald flushed at his comment.
   "You, girl," Gerard said to the serving girl. "What's your name?"
   "Beatrise, my lord. Beatrise Drake."
   "Give the Ashgirl an Ash governess, Conri."
   "Very well. Beatrise Drake, you will come back with us to Elfwyns Rock and raise Ione."
   "Begging your pardon, your grace, but I don't know how to raise a child."
   "My son has a governess who will teach you. Just keep her alive until we reach the mountains."
   "As your grace wishes. Come, Ione. If you're to be a proper noble, you'll need proper noble clothes."
   She curtsied to the Mountain King and his Kingsguard and led the child away.

Prologue

   The Ashfolk whispered to each other as the army of the Weeping Mountains rode through the city. Dennys Merrins, King of the Ashlands, had died in the night. The Mountainfolk, who had been laying seige to Great Ashes for months, were welcomed into the city as soon as the Ash King was found the next morning.
   "That man out front," a mother murmured to her child, "that's Conri Mackall of Elfwyns Rock, the King of the Weeping Mountains."
   "The Ashlands will be great again," a husband told his wife. "A great king, that's all we need. King Conri of Elfwyns Rock."
   Conri smiled as he listened to other Ashfolk saying similar things. It had been nearly two hundred years since the first mad Ash King had murdered the last king of Spiderwood. That had been the beginning of the War of the sixteen kingdoms of Palencine. The Ash Kings since then had each been madder than the last. It was said that King Dennys would ride through Great Ashes every week and choose one of the commonfolk to murder for his amusement.
   Suddenly, Conri saw a flash of motion out of the corner of his eye and his horse began rearing. He heard worried shouts from the commonfolk, but couldn't make out what they were saying. After a few moments of struggle, the horse threw him and bolted off through the crowd who quickly made way for him. Conri found himself on the ground, face-to-face with a small child clinging to a dog. Both were quite dirty and unkempt.
   "Horsey try squish Fip," the child said.
   Two of Conri's Kingsguard, Sir Myron Riverton and Lord Edwin Dreswyck of Mount Spirit were at his side in a second.
   "Are you all right, your grace?" Myron asked.
   "What happened?" Edwin demanded.
   "I'm fine," Conri assured them. "My horse was spooked."
   "Spooked? By what?" Myron pulled Conri to his feet.
   "Fip." The boy answered for Conri. Myron looked at him for the first time.
   "Fip?" the knight inquired.
   "Mousey run by horsey. Fip chase mousey. Horsey scared."
   Conri laughed. "Seems simple enough." He turned to the crowd and shouted, "Whose child is this?"
   For a long moment there was silence. Finally, someone shouted, "No one's."
   "Is that true?" Edwin asked the boy. "Are you no one's?"
   "I Fip's. Fip mine."
   "You have no parents?" Conri insisted.
   "I have Fip."
   By this time another of the Kingsguard, Lord Gerard Lewin of Dreadpass, had brought back Conri's horse.
   "Edwin," Conri said as he remounted, "bring the boy. And Fip."
   "Bring them, Conri?"
   "He looks of an age with my son. Decca could use a playmate."