Bri had never known such a bitter winter. The numbing cold spread from the soles of her feet to the very tips of her fingers. The world seemed devoid of colour, and even the faint yellow glow of the sun had retreated into a dense expanse of cloud. Snowfall from the previous night lay soft and thick on the hillside ahead.

  Something hard and cold collided with Bri’s cheek.

  ‘Irys!’

  Squealing with laughter, her sister threw yet another. Upon impact, a flurry of snow scattered into the air, spraying in all directions.

  ‘Come on, let’s go on an adventure!’ Irys shouted.

  Laughing at her sister’s enthusiasm, Bri attempted to brush off her snow-clad shoulders. ‘An adventure? Where to? To Natur? Or… Embre?’ She pretended to think.

  ‘Up the hill! Last one there’s a spotted toad!’

  Bri, being the elder of the two by several years, easily overtook her sister, kicking up snow as she raced past quick as a hare, whilst Irys struggled behind.

  ‘Too slow!’ Bri laughed as she stood at the very top, looking down at her sister.

  Though the hill could not possibly compare to the Krystal Mountains, the height made her feel as though she looked around her from the very top of the world. It all seemed so vast and wonderful to her young eyes. Rolling fields of wheat and turnip had been enrobed with a heavy blanket of snow. Even the top of the stone wall lining them had not been spared. They stretched Northwards for miles and miles until they ended at the edges of the forest. To the East, the Krystal mountains stood tall and proud, towering over the people who lived and worked below in the sleepy little village. Though isolated from the rest of the world, from where Bri stood, Krylla seemed almost picturesque, charming even — were it not under the tight grasp of the King and all who followed him.

  ‘That’s not fair! You had a head-start!’Irys pouted, huffing and puffing as she continued to struggle.

  Once her sister had finally joined her, Bri asked, ‘So what do you want to play now? Tag?’

  ‘No, that’s boring! I have a better idea.’ Irys grinned, grabbing a snow-dusted branch from the ground and smacking Bri on the arm.‘Got you!’

  ‘Ouch!’ Bri winced. ‘Careful!’

  ‘I’m a warrior princess, I have to practise my fighting skills.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, you can’t be a princess and a warrior!’

  ‘Why not? Princesses can fight too! Besides, you help people with your herbs. Why can’t I help people by fighting for them?’

  ‘Girls can’t be warriors, and Princesses don’t fight! And I’m not a herbalist yet; I’m just an apprentice.’

  ‘Why can’t girls be warriors? I could be Irys, defender of Krys, and I’d slay all the dragons!’

  Bri scoffed. ‘There aren’t any more dragons.’

  ‘There might be! Has anyone ever looked?’

  ‘Irys, who would go looking for a creature that could kill them? Even if they existed.Which they don’t.’

  ‘I would,’ Irys said, determination in her tone.‘I’d travel the whole world until I found one.’

  ‘Oh, Irys!’

  ‘Don’t laugh at me; one day I’ll be such a good fighter I can defeat any monster—the bad soldiers too!’ Her hands gripped her stick firmly as she swung at an imaginary creature.

  Bri rolled her eyes. ‘You’ll never stop the soldiers, silly. Let alone a dragon!’

  ‘I will,’ her sister replied with confidence, causing a shower of snow as she tossed handfuls of it up in the air. Some of it landed in Bri’s hair, sliding down the back of her neck as it began to melt. ‘I’ll find a sorcerer to help me.’

  Fishing out what remained of the snow, Bri shivered violently.‘Stop it, that’s cold!’

  Scooping up a pile of her own, she took aim at Irys in retaliation. Then froze. Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed dark shadows moving towards their village. Silhouettes of all too familiar horses and their straight-backed riders.

  Thump. Bri jolted as snow collided with the back of her head.

  Irys giggled, stopping only to throw another snowball.

  ‘The soldiers are coming!’ Bri cried, ‘we have to get home, come on, Irys!’

  ‘I’ll stop them!’ Her sister picked up her previously abandoned stick, wielding it as a weapon once more.

  ‘Irys this is not a game, this is happening! Leave the stick. Come, hurry!’

  On hearing the desperation in Bri’s voice, Irys at once dropped her make-shift weapon. They picked up their skirts and ran back the way they came, down the hill to their parents, as fast as their legs could carry them. The back door to their house burst open as Bri's father, followed by her mother, made their way across the snow to them.

  ‘Get inside!’ He bellowed.

  Bri flinched under the harshness of his tone, and the glare from his piercing blue eyes. She stood still in shock, having never seen him like this before. Grabbing Irys by the hand, she muttered, ‘You heard father, let’s go inside. We’ll go find Mariebell.’

  She caught her mother’s hushed words to her father before they retreated back into their home. ‘Please, tell me we have enough coin.’

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  ‘Dolls are for babies,’ Irys complained.

  ‘Shh!’ Bri hissed, still holding tightly to her sister’s hand, led her to a spot on the cold, stone-slab floor, only letting go to pass Irys her rag-doll. She left her there, dashing to the window. Anxiously listening for any sign of conflict.

  Instead of staying on the floor as Bri had instructed, Irys obstinately joined her.

  ‘Irys!’

  ‘I want to know what’s going on.’

  ‘Ugh, fine, but be quiet!’

  For once, Irys obeyed, retrieving a rickety, three legged stool to stand on.

  The sisters watched as their parents came into view from round the side of the house, their father’s head bowed, as though in despair. Not once had Bri known him to be so desolate.

  The collector, and the soldiers he commanded, went around the houses, banging on doors, shouting and bullying all of the locals, rudely snatching the silvers out of their hands.

  Then, the men reached their home. The collector threw his black and gold cloak over his shoulder, deliberately flaunting his status by making sure the two silver entwined dragons painting upon them faced Bri’s parents. The soldiers— his personal muscle and protection should anyone dare to attempt attacking him, followed behind, easily recognisable by their gold plumed helms.

  ‘Taxes,’ the brusque collector said in a bored tone.

  ‘Where’s Quentin?’ her father replied.

  ‘Pah! That old man? He’s been… replaced. Now, silvers! We don’t have all day. It's cold enough to freeze an elk’s hide out here. Hìryn, I long for summer.’

  Bri spotted a glint of copper as her father held out coins.

  ‘What’s that supposed to be, man?’

  ‘Taxes.’

  ‘Taxes are two silvers, it's been so for four Winters.’

  ‘Please…’ Bri’s mother interjected.

  ‘You know the consequences. You have two girls, according to the records, correct?’

  ‘No!’ she cried, ‘I won’t let you take them.’

  ‘My predecessor was soft. He let you people off with just a few coppers several times. The King didn’t like that,’ he added with a sneer. ‘I’m sure you can guess what happened next. Too long you people have gotten away with this.’ His voice rose to a shout as he sat up straighter in his saddle, surveying the surrounding cottages. ‘Too long you’ve been in debt to our benevolent King. His patience has run out, and so has ours.’

  ‘No! Please! Have some mercy, Goodman, they are too young.’ Bri watched helpless as her parents begged, and her father fell to his knees before the man, who would not be moved. She couldn’t remember ever being as afraid as she now felt. Bri’s heart raced, her breath uneven and ragged.

  ‘We have to stop them!’ Irys said quietly.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Bri hissed. ‘It’ll be alright,’ she murmured, to comfort not just Irys, but also herself. ‘Now, let me listen.’

  ‘You should see it as an honour, to have one of your children serve the King. Which one of them will it be? We don’t have all day.’

  Bri’s eyes widened in horror.

  ‘Bri, what do they mean?’ Irys whispered. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘It’s going to be okay, Irys, there’s nothing to worry about. Stay here.’

  ‘I want—’

  ‘Stay!’ Bri hissed.

  I will not let them take my sister. She squared her shoulders and pushed open the door.

  ‘Me,’ Bri said to the collector, much more bravely than she felt. ‘Don’t hurt Irys.’

  ‘No, Bri!’ her Father rose from the floor and pushed her away from a soldier’s outstretched arms.‘We need you here, we won’t see another Winter without your wages.’

  ‘You can’t do this, you’re not taking either of our girls!’ her mother gave the collector such a glare as could wilt any other man.

  ‘Dawna!’ Bri’s father warned, ‘don’t make this worse.’

  ‘Worse! How could this possibly be worse?’

  He gave his wife an agonised look and pulled her closer to him. They continued their conversation in low hushed tones. Bri and Irys strained their ears to hear, but they only caught a glance of their father’s face, which seemed to age many years as he spoke. Their mother’s chest heaved as she began to sob, but she exchanged a look of mutual understanding with her husband. An unspoken agreement.

  Bri dashed forward again, fists clenched, desperate to do something, anything, to help her sister.

  ‘No!’ her father shouted again, pulling Bri to him tightly.‘Stay where you are! Don’t you see how much we need you?’

  ‘What about Irys?’ She cried, fighting against his embrace, pounding her fist against his chest. ‘We have to get her back!’

  ‘Bri! We can do nothing.’

  The collector motioned to one of the soldiers, who stormed into their house, roughly scooping Irys up from the floor. She screamed and hit out at the man. ‘What are you doing? Get off me! Leave me alone!’ Irys managed several well-aimed kicks to the soldiers’ legs, causing him to grunt in pain.

  ‘Let her go, leave her alone!’ Bri and her parents' voices overlapped each other as they protested. Her father’s resolve broke.

  Spurred into action, in one desperate motion, her father attempted to wrench Irys away from the soldier, only to be pushed backwards onto the ground by another, who drew his sword.

  ‘Stay where you are!’ he barked, pointing the weapon directly under their father’s chin.

  ‘Mother! Father!’ Irys screamed.

  ‘Irys!’ This time Bri did not heed her father’s words, refusing to let her sister be taken as once more she went to run to her.

  ‘Bri, no!’ Her mother pulled her into an embrace, and Bri buried her head in her chest. ‘Come inside, get away from here,’ she said through her sobs.

  ‘Stop it, why must you do this?’ Bri screamed, turning back to the soldiers.

  ‘Control your daughter!’ The collector bellowed.

  A soldier lifted Irys up from the ground whilst she continued to struggle fruitlessly. ‘Let me go! Let me go!’ She shouted, jabbing a bony elbow into his shoulder.

  ‘No more of that! Stop struggling, or you’ll be horsewhipped!’

  ‘You won’t get away with this. You’ll see, you Raekin!’

  ‘Silence!’ He shoved her into the arms of another waiting soldier on horseback, who held her there firmly, clamping one hand over her mouth in an attempt to quieten her. When Irys’ teeth sunk into his skin, he released it with a yelp of pain. ‘You’ll pay for that later,’ he growled, cuffing her round the head.

  The soldiers ignored the continued pleas of Bri and her parents, and, with one wave of his hand, the collector signalled for his men to move on.

  Bri sank to her knees, the agony in her heart feeling as though someone had driven a thousand knives into it. The choking despair made it hard for her to breathe, to even think. ‘Irys…’ she whispered, through the stinging tears that streamed down her face.