By Geri Kittrell

Kirienne sat in her pavilion , breaking her fast with a meal of roasted
wooly-beast with spiced pears, freshly baked ale-bread and slices of
cheese, all washed down with a mug of small ale.
Her repast was interrupted as three scouts from one of the Highland clans
came running in.

    "Milady, they're gone."

"Who's gone?" she inquired.

    "The Imperials, Milady," the three scouts answered in unison. "There
be no a trace of 'em anywhere."

"Well, I wonder to what do we owe this good fortune," she mumbled as
she slipped into the harness of her sword scabbard and pulled her
dark green cloak around her shoulders, fastening it's clasp as she
left the tent.  She called to two of her men as she prepared to
follow the three scouts, "Brax, Gyasi,  summon the Righ's tae meet me
at the Meetin Hall as soon as they can be there."

    As she mounted her war-horse, one of the men who had been
monitoring Imperial transmissions ran up, "Milady, I picked up wee
snippets of a message, they've cleared out. They have been called
away, bigger battles elsewhere, evidently we are not as important as
some of them thought us to be."

    Tylen, Kirienne's lord husband had just enough time to jump onto the
horse's back behind her as she rode off at the gallop. Upon reaching the
site where the Imperials had once occupied a small outpost, she found
that there was nothing remaining but barren , trampled ground. The
Imperials had left without a trace.She posted a small guard from the
highland men and women she found nearby, saying "I go to tell Righ
Nighthawk of this wondrous occurrence."

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