Vero woke up in a bed softer than any she had ever felt before.

The crypts in the Sheol were all hard-white marble, so she supposed she must still be alive. She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids only fluttered weakly and what she did see was too blurry to make out.

She tried to speak, but emitted only a faint moan.

“Vero?” Her hearing was the only sense which seemed to be working properly. “Vero, are you with us?”

And her sense of touch. She felt a hand move the hair away from her face, and then grasp her own hand. She tried to respond in kind, but nothing occurred.

Then she became aware of the tremendous pain which she felt all over her body. It came over her as a torrent and she realized she was dying. Almost as if responding to her thoughts the voice called out.

“She’s waking up; bring her something for the pain.”

She tried to open her eyes again, and this time the image coalesced into the sight of two man-shaped blobs. One moved away from her.

“As you wish, my Lord.”

Her eyes must have been watering from the pain, though she was scarcely aware of it. All she could feel was wetness on her face. A hand wiped her cheeks dry. “Don’t worry Vero. I’ve sent the healer to fetch something that will help you go back to sleep for a little while- until they're finished fixing you.”

“Wha…” Vero tried her best to form words. “What hap…”

“Don’t try to talk. You’ve done everything you promised. Now you can rest, I swear you’ll be safe.”

The second blob returned and placed an object to her lips. A cool fluid flowed into her mouth and a warm soothing sensation radiated outwards from her stomach, the familiar anesthetic effect of poppy milk. Then the cup passed from her lips.

“Now just go back to sleep. We need you to get well.”

Even if Vero had wanted to argue, she could not have managed it. As slowly as her senses had come, they began to recede.

The last thing she was aware of was the hand holding hers.

Vero woke up intermittently over the next three days, only to be quickly dosed again and put back under after only a few minutes. Each time her thoughts were a little clearer when she would wake. The Marquis was always there, and at last she realized that she must have been sleeping in his tent. He never told her anything except that she was safe, and that the physician said she needed rest. Sometimes Vero woke up and felt as though she were being moved.

After it was clear that she was not likely to die, sometimes it was Antoinette who sat beside her when she woke up rather that the Marquis. She only said the same as her lord.

One time Vero believed she heard the voice of Fra Heward, but she never saw him. It may have only been a fragment of a dream.

At last, Vero woke and did not feel such terrible pain. She moaned, and her vision cleared.

She could see a group of men leaving the tent. It was a cold draft of air from the open flap of the tent which had brought her to her senses. The last one to leave was the Earl of Kaer Longus. He was pale and emaciated like a man recovering from a grave illness, but there was no mistaking that it was him. He looked at her with a mixture of embarrassment and resentment before departing.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

The Marquis appeared from behind a curtain, which gave her cot some privacy from the main room. He approached her and took a seat which was placed beside her bed.

“The doctor says you’re well enough to stay awake now. How do you feel?”

“…Bad… Tell me… what happened...?”

He smiled, and moved the strands of hair which always seemed to fall over her eyes. It reminded her why she did not allow it to grow long.

“You did it. -Certainly completed the contract to my total satisfaction. Fra Heward called an armistice and came over to our lines with a dazed and very concerned earl. He told me where you had gone, and by that time we could both see the smoke from the tower. I sent a detachment of soldiers to help you, but the top was totally engulfed in flame by the time they reached it.”

“…Release of energy… caused by… spirit destruction… increased intensity… of fire.” Vero managed to explain with effort.

“Well, the tower burned hot enough to melt stone like wax. The whole thing looked like a burnt candle when it was over. I feared you were dead. But we sent out search parties for you anyway, of course. A cobbler and his wife swore they saw someone jump from the tower as it burned. We found you half drowned, out in the marsh. Over the past few days, I think I’ve had every priest of the healing god in the province come to look at you.”

“You have my thanks… my Lord... What… did they find…?”

He gently pulled down the blanket covering her. She could see that she was dressed in a plain white chemise, and that both her legs were immobilized in hard clay, as was her left arm. “They’ve worked their spells – forgive me, ‘miracles’ – and they claim that you’re through the worst of it. Several of the doctors have said you should regain nearly all your mobility… in time.”

“Nearly… all…?”

The Marquis’ smile turned a shade sad. “They- vary… in their degrees of optimism.”

“I see.” Vero felt like crying, but she was mindful that she was not alone and could not allow her control to slip.

“What was the spirit?”

“The Earl didn’t tell you...?” Vero’s mind was still on her own problems.

“He claimed not to know its identity. Although he made a quite a show of his helplessness to resist it.”

“I can’t comment on his helplessness… That all depends on his strength of will... or lack thereof... But he still lied to you… He created the wraith in the first place…”

“How so?”

“The ghost was the spirit of his sister… He imprisoned her, and eventually murdered her… along with her unborn child... Her spirit was trapped in this world… by her desire to destroy him…”

The Marquis de Fer scratched at the day’s growth of stubble on his chin and took on a grave expression. “Well, I didn’t trust his loyalty to begin with. But I thank you for this information regardless. It more or less confirms my worst suspicions about him.”

Something in his voice gave Vero a horrible feeling. “You’re not going to arrest him… are you...?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. Not yet, at least. I need his soldiers for battles further in Umbria. This disturbance, and my father’s death, has caused a great deal of unrest among my vassals here. The fire has destroyed any evidence of what transpired, which we would need for the lengthy trial he could convince my other allies to insist on giving him. Once my hold is more secure, however, I’ll be in a position to put him through a swift trial. Evidence carries less weight in a swift trial than the judge’s first impressions. I swear to you on my honor- I will give this woman justice, once I am able.”

Vero wanted to believe him. “It’s not my place… to ask for more...”

“Vero I-” The Marquis seemed unsure of himself. “You were injured in my service, and I intend to meet all the expenses of your convalescence. Once you are well again though… I must confess that I find myself thinking of you very often... Perhaps we could extend your contract, if you wish to join my household as a permanent retainer?”

Vero began a grim laugh, but the terrible pain that shot through her whole body when she did so, quickly dissuaded her from continuing. “Perhaps… you should wait… to see if your slayer can even… walk again… before you offer… that contract.”

“I said that the doctors vary in their degrees of optimism. My own is steady.”

"This is rather unusual... isn’t it...? What would your priests say... about you keeping a woman in your retinue...?”

“If they complain- Then I’ll get rid of them, and find new priests.”

“You have no one else… close to you… who might object…? Your mother perhaps…?”

It was Marquis’ turn to laugh. “My mother retired to her paramour’s estate the day after my father’s funeral. I suspect that it’s my wife you really mean, but there’s no need for concern. She and I are very tolerant towards one another’s right to privacy in our personal affairs.”

Vero had no notion of how she drew the Marquis’ attention. She also knew that with her body in the shape that it was, she was no longer able to allow the opportunity pass her by. “I would be honored, my Lord.”

“Your friends call you Vero. Mine call me Jean. If it pleases you, I would like you to do the same.” Jean leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers.

Vero felt her heart beating fast again.