She cleared her throat. The crowd strained forward. 

            “I know the way up the mountains to the Pentacas camp,” She was careful to look only at the King. “The Pentacas camp rises above our settlement.”

            “What settlement is that?” asked Lord Alexy Fulcruchen.

            “The Shivelite camp.” Her voice broke, only a little. 

            “Continue,” said Ranald.

            “I’ve witnessed the Spring Calling of Spirits. I’ve seen the Gibbor open the night sky and call the spirits down. I’ve seen the Whitehairs struggling with the unseen.” Encouraged by the King’s regard, her voice grew strong. “And I’ve seen the man before you stand guard on the Jutting Rock for many years.”

            A surprised grunt escaped Oren.

            “Many years?” asked Ranald with a smile.

            “Since I was twelve years old,” she answered. “This year, no. But I’ve been present for six callings.”

            Oren’s face reddened. He’d only been aware of her for three. A mere child had evaded him. 

            “Your surname?” asked Ranald. 

            “Taylor,” she said, then added. “My name is Mirella Taylor.”

            The piece of memory that had prodded Ranald now became whole. “Your father, Tallis Taylor, is known to the Shivelites as the First Man?”

            Mirella merely nodded, lest her voice betray her. Yes, she was the daughter of Tallis Taylor, the man who’d driven her from her home.