Whenever she travelled, she always took one of her spears with her. When she slept, they were hidden at the base of the tree, ready for easy access.Th... final element of Tarjana's means of surviving her time in the green was her clothing. While still on the outskirts of their village, Tarjana had removed and buried her tunic, not wanting to carry too much of the stink of human manufacture with her. Diverting to the river, Tarjana had washed herself as thoroughly as she could, then smeared moss. She'd get the bastard, she was sure.Bastard. Why stop at just one? There were bound to be many others. Alexis Chatris was looking for bastards, plural. Not in the technical sense. She didn't care if she found someone who had parents that were married or not. No, no. She wanted the other kind of bastard: the kind that took advantage of other people, especially in the sexual way. Why limit myself to those? She asked herself. There are plenty of other kinds of bastards: racists, homophobes,. More

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