Lady LeMewn sat upon her highbacked chair in her private sitting room, the dark wood of the entire manor house softened with pinks and creams, the mood lighter there than anywhere else. She was dressed in a new gown, the old already burning in the furnace. The gown was black, the colour of mourning and highlighted the shadows beneath her eyes. She looked to Caste who sat beside her at her desk. He nodded at her, parchment laid out before her, quill in hand.

“Send him in.” She said quietly.

Judd LaMogre bowed and opened the doors to her sitting room.

Suvau entered, his tattered and rotten fruit-stained clothing replaced with new trousers, shirt and boots. A wolf had managed to sink its teeth into his leg before Giordi had crushed its skull with his shield, Suvau unable to defend himself as he tried to shorten the chain to keep Aalis from drowning. Thankfully the wounds were not extensive, only giving him a slight limp. He had bathed, removing the stench of imprisonment, sweat and fear and made a presentable, if formidable, presence which dwarfed her sitting room.

“Suvau,” Lia LeMewn said in her soft manner, “there are no words with which I can truly ever express the sorrow of what you endured at the hands of my misguided and manipulated husband.” He gazed at her peacefully. “Yet I am deeply grieved by what you have suffered.”

“You have no reason to believe me but I tell you, I did not strike your husband down out of vengeance.” Suvau said in his voice that was as dark as his skin.

“I know,” Lia nodded, “even in my stupor, I heard him thank you for your mercy.” She paused and licked her lips. “I…would not have blamed you if you had turned on me.”

“I have a wife,” Suvau said unexpectedly, “and a daughter. I could not return to them with an innocent’s blood on my hands.”

Lia smiled. “When you return to your wife, please beg her forgiveness for me, for having worried her so with your extended absence.”

“It was my wife who warned me against the foolishness of this trade,” Suvau said strongly, “she said it was ‘too good to be true’.”

“You speak, of course, of my husband’s ruse of a commissioned sword which you forged for him and brought to Quarre.” He nodded. Lia looked to Caste who opened and drawer and took a pouch of money out, resting it on the desk. Lia picked it up and rose, approaching Suvau. “I believe this is the amount you are owed.”

He looked at the pouch which was weighed with gold then back into her face.

“You are not responsible for your husband’s debts.”

“I rather think that I am.”

“Then I refuse to sell.”

Judd wanted to interrupt but held his ground.

Lia pursed her lips. “Suvau,” she said quietly, “you misunderstand. I am not purchasing the sword. I am compensating you for the way you have been treated, the lies, the fear and threat.” He began to shake his head but she clasped his hand, her pale fingers bright against his. “Please, allow me this.”

“And the sword?”

“Do with it as you will.” She nodded and stepped back. “Your belongings were confiscated by my husband. I have ordered them returned to you. I rather think you will want to go home as soon as possible.”

“I do and I shall.” He bowed respectfully, turned and left.

Lia sank into her chair.

“You handled that brilliantly.” Judd complimented.

“Perhaps not brilliantly but at least competently.” Lia corrected then turned to Caste. “You have recorded all that we said?”

“All is now part of Quarre historical record.” Caste assured her, dusting powder onto the record and tapping the excess off, setting the ink on the parchment.

“Judd LaMogre, may I beg to retain your cleric for a few hours more?” Lia asked. “Without an officer of the Order of the Grail to verify the tumultuous days Quarre and its people have experienced, I fear that my letter would be dismissed when it reaches the hand of Bishop Peele. This city needs a cleric of moral fortitude and a knight to replace my husband and a letter with the seal of a cleric will carry more weight.”

“What will you do?” Judd asked.

“I will stay until a governing authority arrives then I shall return to Astaril.” Lia breathed deeply. “There are too many ghosts here now…”

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“I understand. Of course Cleric Caste will assist you in any way that he can.”

“Thank you.” Lia paused. “How is your friend?”

Judd paused. “Aalis is well. Your Ladyship was very kind to send your own servants to look after her.”

“Before you leave Quarre, be sure to return for your mounts. I would wish to say farewell.”

Suvau looked over his wagon, checking the joins and making sure all the tools he had brought were still in the box on its flat surface. He unwrapped the sword that had been the cause of all the trouble in the first place and, satisfied it was not tampered with, put it back in its leather wrap and tucked it onto the wagon.

“I can feel your eyes upon me,” he said as he worked, “I will not bite no matter what you have been told.” He turned and looked down at Aalis who had stood behind him for several minutes. Dry and warm, she had recovered to the point that her life was no longer in danger, which was a great relief to Suvau who thought he might have both drowned and frozen the girl.

“Why did you save me?”

“I very nearly didn’t.” He admitted. “It wasn’t the best idea in the world…”

“You knew I would not be able to defend myself against the wolves,” Aalis couldn’t meet his gaze, “you threw me in the well because they could not reach me there.”

“I thought,” Suvau shook his head, “I thought if I was killed, my corpse would at least prevent you from falling…but when the bar snapped…”

“Thank you.”

He paused, taken aback by her thanks. Aalis wrung her fingers together.

“Why did you save me?” He asked. “It’s clear you are frightened by me.”

“Yes, that is true…” Aalis admitted. “I…I am from the north and we are told all sorts of things about your people…”

“I’ve heard some of them,” Suvau huffed, “you should have welcomed my death rather than kept the werewolf away. Why didn’t you?”

“Why did you save me?” Aalis asked again.

He paused and studied her. “I have a daughter, younger than you I think…brave, bold…smarter than you could imagine,” Aalis struggled to hold his gaze, “she wouldn’t have hesitated to do what you did and without flinching…and yet you did it with fear coursing through your body. I could not let someone that brave die because of my foolishness.” He folded his arms. “Why did you save me?”

Aalis swallowed. “Because I believe this world needs you.”

Suvau blinked, surprised at her answer. Aalis rubbed her arms.

“Are you cold?”

Aalis was chilled to the bone but not from the temperature. “I…”

“Aalis!” Judd jogged towards her. “Suvau, I’m glad I caught you.”

“Where did you, Giordi and Verne go?” Aalis asked, escaping the topic of her coldness.

“Back through the quarry, to the valley where the werewolf was so we could burn its corpse. Caste gave instructions on what part of it to remove so that it can join the other proof of death evidence in his box.”

Suvau stared at Judd. “That sounds like a disgusting box.”

“Oh it is. And creepy too.” Judd held the leather pendant out to Aalis. “She was wearing this.”

“She?”

“Female werewolf,” Giordi smiled, his dimples appearing, “a little less hairy and she would have been mighty fine to look at.”

“By the stars…” Verne rolled his eyes.

“What is it?” Aalis held the leather pendant.

“I don’t know but I’ve never known a monster to wear something that wasn’t…modesty related.” Judd shuddered.

“I didn’t think monsters had any concept of modesty at all.” Verne muttered.

“Oh…it is not a leather pendant. It is leather, strapped around something…” Aalis worked the leather, stiff from years of being bound together and began to unravel it until a dark blue cylinder, the length of her little finger and just as round, fell out of the leather wrapping. Judd lunged for it, catching it in his palm and held it out. All of them, including Suvau, peered at it.

“That’s…unusual.” Giordi murmured. “Is it…sapphire?”

Judd held it up to the light and they saw that it was translucent.

“It could be.” Judd admitted.

“May I?” Suvau asked and Judd put it in his large hand. Suvau poked it with his finger. “I have worked with gemstones in the past. It does appear to be sapphire or something very similar. It is so smooth. There are no groove marks of tools…I cannot fathom how it was refined into this shape or why it was made into a pendant.”

“How so?”

“Sapphires are precious stones and usually their finished shape is meant to be elegant and striking, but a small cylinder wrapped in leather? It makes very little sense.”

“Maybe a custom job?” Suvau gave it back to Judd and he held it up. “Strange…I might ask Caste about it. Who knows, the brains in the Order of the Grail might be able to work out what it is.”

“You ought to let me daughter have a look. She’s smarter than everyone I know, including the cleric who serves Sir Fereak.” Suvau straightened to his full height. “It would also afford me the opportunity to repay you for saving me.”

“I really don’t think…”

“It is a matter of honour.” He said with finality. Judd gulped.

“Uh…you’re from Fort Omra, yes?” Verne tapped Judd’s shoulder. “You’ve knocked off all the little monsters from your list. If you’re serious about this knighthood, we’re going to need to go further south.”

“And who better with than a terrifying swordsmith!” Giordi chuckled.

“If you are willing to travel with us?” Judd asked.

“I could be persuaded.” Suvau smiled, his teeth startling against the richness of his skin.

“My cleric is on loan to Lady LeMewn. We won’t be able to leave until tomorrow, would that suit?” Suvau nodded. “Thank you.” Judd’s arm was clutched and Aalis drew him aside. “What is it?”

“South?” Aalis trembled. “To a wall fort?”

She was terrified. Judd’s eyes were sympathetic.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. As long as you promise not to stand in the middle of a crowd and call the knight a hypocrite, we should be alright.”

Aalis blushed. “I do not know what came over me. I was so angry…”

“If I hadn’t been so frightened for you, I would have been deeply impressed.” Judd put his arm around her shoulder. “I promise I will always save you.”

Aalis gazed at him and he saw doubt and fear in her eyes. He wished he knew how to reassure her of his vow. He didn’t know that she wasn’t looking at him in this moment, but at the future Judd LaMogre, dead in a coffin.

“Who will save you?” She breathed, closing her eyes.

“What was that?” Aalis shook her head. Judd sighed. “Well…we’d better see what we owe at the tavern. It’s not going to leave us with much…if anything.”