“So by burying the villagers we would be causing another village to be attacked?” asked Rejji.

“I believe so,” nodded Brontos. “The tales told around the country are that the feeding takes place at night. That is another reason to be well away from the village as soon as we can.”

The trio rode on in silence for some time. After a while, Rejji turned to the girl.

“What village are you from?” he asked. “Aren’t you curious if it has been attacked?”

“It is a small fishing village on the other side of the Giaming Mountains,” she replied. “Brontos already said he doesn’t go that far. I don’t much care what happens to it anyway,” she added bitterly.

The merchant’s eyebrows rose as she spoke. “I have been over those mountains once or twice,” he stated. “Not in some years though. Tell me lass, what are you called?”

“My name is Mistake,” she retorted caustically.

“Mistake?” chuckled Rejji. “You aren’t serious, are you?”

“It is the only name I have ever known,” she replied. “I know it was intended to be cruel, but I can handle anything she can dish out.”

“You are indeed a tough lass to carry a name like that voluntarily,” agreed Brontos. “By she, I suppose you mean your mother?”

“She is not my real mother,” spat Mistake. “Her husband found me at sea and brought me home. He cared for me, but she always resented me and called me a mistake. After a while it became my name. I cannot remember her ever calling me anything else.”

“And what of the father who found you?” queried the merchant. “Did he call you anything else?”

“I don’t remember much of him,” Mistake admitted. “He died when I was still quite young. I do remember that he held me softly and smiled at me. He is the only person I have ever known to care for me.”

“So you ran away,” surmised Brontos. “Can’t say as I blame you, although you have set out on a rough course to steer.”