March lay prone amid the budding grain of the golden Bailadeschian fields. He didn't want to stir but Bebe, she just wouldn't stop.

  "Wake up. Wake up," Bebe repeated rhythmically. "Wake up!" The words were accompanied by a swift, but playful, kick the ribs.

  "Ow!" March's hand went to his side, massaging where the tiny foot landed. "Bebe! Go somewhere else. Doesn't Aaryn need a new archery target? Your bouncing would be of great help." He rolled onto his side and ignored the girl.

  "March!" Bebe screamed this time. "Wake...Up!"

  "Fine!" He pulled himself up to a seated position, barely taller than the surrounding wheat. "What is so important, Bebe? I was having the best dream."

  "Nothing." Giving a half-smile that showcased the single dimple in her right cheek. "I'm bored."

  "Bored?" Obviously irritated, March throws his copy of The Pragmatic Herbalist at the young girl.

  "Nice to see you taking your studies seriously." Aaryn, March's older brother, said as he bent to retrieve the book.

  "Aaryn. How's the bucket, thing going?" March jerked a thumb at the wooden monstrosity of a training dummy Aaryn spent most of the morning knocking around.

  "Seriously, the paint was genius." He, of course was speaking of the scowl Aaryn painted on the bucket atop the dummy. "What was its name again?"

  "Ow!" A sharp crack from Aaryn's wooden practice sword stopped March's taunt dead, leaving him speechless. He rubbed a now forming lump on his forehead. Bebe snickered.

  "Seriously!? What was that for?" His head throbbed.

  "Motivation." Aaryn said. Stepping closer, he dropped the book in the younger brother's lap. "Because I know you, and I know that without...incentive you'll lie here all day getting even more sun burned." Aaryn slapped March's burned shoulder.

  "Ugh!" March shot to his feet, book in hand. Bebe was rolling with laughter at this point.

  "Let's go, brother." Aaryn tossed a white linen shirt into March's arms. "It's time to go. Mother expects us home before nightfall."

  "Alright, alright." March slid the shirt gingerly over his shoulder, wincing a bit at the burn. "I don't need her mad at me again."

  The two boys started down the road toward the small town of Bailadesch. Aaryn, being fifteen, was a head taller than the twelve-year-old March. His dark, shoulder length hair and robust build made him an imposing figure for a teen. March was a wiry contrast to Aaryn. His sandy hair, having more brown than blonde, fell messily around his face and shoulders. The shortest of the three skipped along a few paces behind the boys. Bebe hadn't a care as she jumped and flitted from side to side. Her long dark curls floated with each jump and skip as if free from the laws of physics.

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  "What do you think is for supper?" March's belly rumbled as the question left his lips.

  "Probably Timothy," Aaryn sucked his teeth for effect. "Especially when Timothy is a fat, good-for -nothing, wolf hound." He elbowed March in the ribs playfully.

  "Hey!" March retorted. "Timothy never hurt anyone. Bet he tastes terrible too."

  The boys laughed and continued their walk on the dusty old road with Bebe in tow, her stride long, floating skips. The sunset signaled the end of the day in fiery orange as only it knew how. The three enjoyed the peaceful evening walk.

  ****

  The heavy, wooden gate at the center of a long, stone wall came into focus as the three approached the small town. Rothsted, one of the town's guard, sat on his stump to the side of the entrance.

  "There he is again," Aaryn muttered as they neared the entrance. " Drunk as can be."

  "Yeah," March acknowledged. "But what's that in his beard?"

  Sure enough the three saw some sort of brown mass lodged in Rothsted's ragged beard. The man sat on the stump with his pike resting on his rusted iron pauldron. He raised his flask to his lips and took a slog. Whatever was in that flask had no business guarding the gate.

  "Oy!" Yelled Rothsted as he lowered the flask. He wiped his mouth and beard with the back of his woolen sleeve, the mass shook free and fell to his oversized belly. "Where you boys been?"

  "In the fields, Rothsted," Aaryn's flat gaze stayed sharp and avoided the man. "Same as always."

  "Aye, same location," the old man grinned a largely toothless grin. "Different sort of trouble. I know how ye boys are."

  "Go back to sleep, you old goat," March's eyes stared daggers into the man as he passed.

  "Alright, alright," his hands raised in submission. "Keep yer breeches on, I ain't mean nothin' by it."

  "Get rid of the drink and polish your armor," Aaryn never met the old man's stare as they passed. "You're a disgrace."

  "Hey!" Rothsted stumbled back to the stump after trying to stand. "You don't know nothin', boy!" The old man yelled. "Keep walkin'! That's right! Get home to mommy!"

  The boys passed the old man, ignoring the yells in the distance. Bebe never missed a step behind the brothers, despite having turned backward toward Rothsted with her thumbs in her ears and tongue outstretched in his direction.

  "He isn't worth the effort," Aaryn said while never taking his eyes from the path. "Not much further now."

  "Hey, Aaryn," March grabbed Aaryn's arm. "Take me with you."

  "Hah!" The older boy saw his brother's seriousness and regained himself. "You don't know how ro fight."

  "Then teach me!" He pleaded. "I can't stay here without you."

  "No," he said while pulling his arm free. "We don't have time for this, let's go."

  "You know he's right," chimed the seven-year-old Bebe. "What good would you be in the King's Guard? What, you'll read them all to death?" A crooked smile crossed her face. "That only works on you."

  March swatted his hand in her direction, missing, of course. "Shut up, you know I hate reading. I don't know why she wants me to read so much."

  "Maybe because you need more sleep?" Proud of her chide, she snickered. "Or maybe she wants you do be something one day, who knows?"

  "Alright," Aaryn started up the steps of their front door. "March! The hell are you doing? Let's go."

  March hurried to catch back up with Aaryn leaving Bebe behind. She stood, hands on hips, glaring as only she could.