A cool breeze blew in from the east and a hint of the storm to come hung in the air.

A lone figure stood at the base of a snow covered hill, in the misty gray of false dawn. Brown patches dotted the landscape where the snow had melted in the recent warm weather. The cloud laden sky bore the threat of more snow to come.

The solitary figure paid no heed to the threatening clouds, or anything around her. Instead, she looked at the base of the hill, intently scanning it with her eyes.

She was alone, but she was comfortable with her surroundings. This land had belonged to many of the Iceni before her. She felt connected with this small piece of Britannia.

A stray lock of blonde hair that the teasing breeze pulled from her tight braid did not give her much pause. Somewhat exasperated, she tucked it behind her ear, never taking her eyes from the hill’s base.

Her eldest brother’s wife, Lera, had awakened her before daybreak this morning. She was trying to hide a bruise on her cheek, and Avella knew that her brother was in bad humor again.

“It’s his head again.” Lera had said, tears in her eyes. “It is worse than the other times.”

Her brother had been suffering from strange, violent headaches since adolescence. He’d been hit on the head in a Trinovante raid and hadn’t quite recovered fully, even after all these years.

She’d sighed and rose from bed. Lera wasn’t the only one to suffer from her brother’s attacks. Usually the one who administered the medicine suffered no worse than what Lera came to expect.

The couple had been moved out of her father’s house and into their own. Her father had felt that it would be better for his son if he was somewhere more peaceful, for her father’s household was a large one and she had many siblings ranging in all ages. Also, Avella secretly thought her father could not bear to look at such a weak man. She had the feeling that he was ashamed of his son for suffering from such a malady. And Caturix had felt the father’s shame. She thought this was one of the reasons he became so violent when his head pained him.

Why Lera always came to her instead of the more experienced healers, Avella didn’t know. Maybe her brother didn’t want it known that he was suffering yet again? Or perhaps Lera didn’t trust the older women not to gossip about Caturix. But, regardless of the reasons, Lera sought Avella out when Caturix needed medicine.

Thinking to stop the violence as quickly as possible, she’d opened her medicine bag only to find that there wasn’t enough to make his normal dose. Instead of sending Lera back to her home empty handed, Avella had redone the mixture, adding more of the sleeping herbs than pain relievers. She prayed that he’d sleep until she came back with what was needed. She also prayed that she’d be able to find some Wild Ginger - a substitute for the Feverfew she was out of - through the snow.

And that is why she found herself at the base of this hill, looking down at the brown patches for a glimpse of Wild Ginger. She didn’t necessarily need fresh, she could easily use the roots that had grown last spring and summer, if only she could find some. She knew that there had been some growing in this spot before the snows came.

Feeling the press of time, Avella decided to get down on her hands and knees look. She didn’t trust that her brother would sleep much longer and she’d prefer to have his medicines prepared before he awoke.

Before long, her efforts paid off and she spotted an elusive root. Taking a small knife from her bag, Avella dug the root from the semi-frozen ground. She found a few more, just under the surface and took them as well. Brushing some of the mud off of them, she put them in her bag. She was washing the mud from her hands with snow when she heard a muted footstep behind her. She spun around so quickly that she almost ended on her backside in the mud.

She nearly spun right into a pair of legs. Large, masculine legs. She followed them all the way up to look at the man in which they belonged.

A smile was on his face as he said, “Hello.” in a most friendly way.

Avella cursed her ill luck. The morning had been anything but good to begin with, but now...

He wasn’t Iceni, of that she was certain. Nor did she think he was from any of the Trinovante or Cautuvellauni. They were currently at peace with the Iceni. She didn’t know for certain, but she was sure this man was not on Iceni lands for any good purpose.