The girl was ten. She had long black hair, braided down her back. She wore boys clothes.
Behind her, her father watched silently as she stalked the rabbit.
The rabbit twitched at her presence. She bolted forward.
She carried home her prize within two minutes.
"Good kill, Alys." her father praised as they entered Cornwall's castle, in all its wooden glory.
Alys ran to the hearth, and her rabbit cooked on the spit. Her mother approached behind her, as her father and Cornwall's knights discussed the issue with Ireland. Her mother was beautiful, and such glory was to be expected when ones parents were Roman diplomats. But Rome had fallen, nearly fifty years ago, and her mother had aged.
"Mother, what do you think will happen?" Alys asked, not turning from the fire.
"Such worries are much too old for such a young mind" her mother said. Alys hated when she did that. Answered with out ever really answering.
Then, Sir Marke got the attention of everyone.
"People," he said, "My wife is with child, and already I can tell it is a boy. I do not want my son to be raised in a land filled with fear and hatred. We must make peace with the Irish!" But no one had time to object, because the castle was lit on fire. Not by Alys and her rabbit, but by the devils spoken of just an instant before; The Irish