They stomped the rain from their boots and shook the cloaks free of the droplets. The unnamed soldier Judd had seen before was waiting for them and took Sir Fereak’s cloak for him.

“Thank you, Wil.”

“Weather taken a turn for the worse, sir?”

“Indeed.” Fereak looked at the others. “This is Captain Heim, a Fort Bastil champion like yourself, LaMogre.”

“Congratulations.” Judd shook his hand, Heim’s smile a little too…pleasant for his tastes. He also wished he wouldn’t hold his hand for so long but eventually he relinquished his grasp and Judd found himself hard pressed not to wipe his palm on his trousers. “How long ago did you fight at Bastil?”

“So long ago my name will be all but forgot except in Fort Bastil’s archives,” Heim lamented, “I’m not as young as I used to be…”

“What you have lost from your youth you have gained in technique and stamina.” Sir Fereak said firmly.

“Ahem…” They turned and saw Ermo Kenet in the doorway.

Sir Fereak eyed Kenet. “If you’re here, then I suspect I am late.”

“Her Ladyship has been asking after you.” Kenet said with a wry grin.

“Then she is expecting us.” Sir Fereak jerked his head to Judd. “Come along then. Time to meet the wife.”

Lady Alonin Fereak was waiting for them in the feasting hall with a disdainful expression so deeply engraved on her features, Judd wondered if it had been there from the moment she was born, unimpressed at the thought of needing to ‘socialise’ with the outside world. She was a lovely woman to behold with rose ash hair in a sweeping, elegant braid over one shoulder, her gown the softest shade of mustard velvet with cream silk sleeves and gathered in her skirt.

“My dear, we have company for supper tonight.” Sir Fereak said without baulking at her demeanour. No doubt he was used to it.

“You see fit to entertain more riff raff at our table or has someone deigned to travel from Astaril to grace us with their presence?”

“Lady Alonin Fereak, allow me to introduce you to our guests.”

“You may as I cannot stop you.” She retorted lightly, batting back his words with a practiced air of polite disgust.

“This is Judd LaMogre.”

“Not sir or lord? A commoner?” She beheld Judd critically with an arched eyebrow.

“One cannot be completely common when undertaking Sir Rylan’s knighthood quest.”

“I see…middle class common.” She lifted her chin.

Judd could see that Sir Fereak was almost enjoying his wife’s behaviour. He stepped forward and bowed deeply, throwing himself into the flourishes Giordi displayed that he usually avoided.

“Lady Fereak, I can see that my presence offends you. If you ask it of me, I will leave your presence for I would never wish to grieve a noblewoman.”

He kept his eyes down, wondering if he’d said the right thing.

“Well…since you are here…you might as well stay.”

“Your ladyship is most gracious.” Judd straightened his body. “Sir Fereak, may I have the honour of kissing your lady’s hand?”

“Go right ahead.” Sir Fereak scoffed a little but Judd saw a glimmer of surprise and pleasure in his wife’s eyes. She offered him her hand and Judd brushed his lips lightly across the top of her skin before looking up, meeting her gaze.

“Charmed, Lady Fereak.”

She withdrew her hand and he stepped back. “Manners befitting a nobleman…how intriguing…and you are?”

Judd had to firm his mouth into a line to stop from grinning as Lady Fereak noticed Giordi standing behind him. “This is my cleric, Caste Undern, my archer, Verne Sachon and my minstrel, Giordi Gavoli.”

“A minstrel? Perhaps we might make a little music later, minstrel?”

Giordi smiled, his dimples deepening in his cheeks.

“Come along then…I thought we were late.” Sir Fereak waved them to the table. He had Ermo Kenet on his right and offered for Judd to sit on his left. Judd might have refused as he thought that was the place a wife ought to sit but Lady Fereak sat at the other end of the table. Thankfully it was not a long table but the yawning distance between herself and her husband was keenly felt.

Supper was fast in appearing and Judd was relieved it wasn’t as pretty as the meal served at the LeMewn table. He could see how differently the two households were run. Lord LeMewn had not been a knight but a nobleman only and he had endeavoured to replicate an element of Astaril in his manor house in Quarre. However, in Fort Omra, where monsters were a regular occurrence, there was a mighty forge in the depths of the fort and mount of Maul was within sight from the ramparts, such delicate morsels and swift servings would have only looked out of place. Rather than receive their meals by servants, the feasting table was laden with roast meats, vegetables, steaming flagons of mead and a platter of fruit to which they helped themselves.

Lady Fereak was the only one served by a servant and Judd noticed it was Yolana who winked at him then stepped back to wait until she was needed.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“I must say I was surprised to see that you had defeated Royce Colton at Fort Bastil.” Sir Fereak said to Judd as meat was sliced from the bone. “That man was a brute.”

“You knew Royce Colton?”

“He was one of the soldiers Kenet invested a great deal of time in, sending him off to Bastil to gain some recognition before joining the ranks of Fort Omra’s military.”

“Not unlike your Captain Heim…” Lady Fereak said in a voice that made Judd think she was looking for somewhere to stick a knife in.

“Unlike Royce Colton, Heim was victorious…and Colton never did return…”

Judd caught sight of Ermo’s sharp gaze. “I apologise…”

“He clearly wasn’t as good as he made himself out to be.” Ermo’s tone was dismissive but Judd couldn’t help but notice a muscle tweaking in his jaw that belied his annoyance. “I mean, if a middle class rookie could defeat him…”

“He wasn’t an easy man to best.” Judd insisted. “He hit like a minotaur…not that I’ve actually fought one.”

“I take it a minotaur is on your list?”

“The last monster in fact.”

“What is on there that you’ve killed?”

Judd glanced at Lady Fereak who was watching their interactions with a sour expression. “I would not wish to offend or alarm your wife with tales of monsters…”

“She’s gotten used to it, haven’t you dearest?” Sir Fereak said with a tease in his tone.

“Amongst other things, husband.” She took up her wine, her lips curled in disdain. “Living in Fort Omra has been quite the education…”

Sir Fereak chuckled and shook his head. “If you do become a knight, Judd LaMogre, whatever you do, don’t be cajoled into marrying a noble woman because that’s what’s expected. There’s only disappointment on both sides.” Judd didn’t know what to say to that and was relieved at the tardy appearance of Cleric Severo at that moment. “Sit Severo and have a drink.”

“Yes, Sir Fereak.”

Cleric Severo sat opposite Caste, Yolana immediately darting forward to fill his goblet with wine. Caste watched his shaking hand, knuckles thick with arthritis and too much indulgence, grasp the goblet as best he could.

“I’ve been admiring your library since I arrived, Cleric Severo.” Caste initiated conversation immediately, concerned that the window Emeri told him about in communicating with Severo had already closed. “It’s a trove of archives and historical gems.”

“It’s dusty in there,” Severo muttered, “dust makes me sneeze…not good for my sinuses.”

Caste cleared his throat softly. “Perhaps…there would be less dust if it were better sealed? A tiled roof, perhaps, instead of thatch? Less likely to catch fire as well.”

“Hark your cleric,” Kenet snorted, “a tiled roof? He’ll be wanting new floor coverings and more shelves next.”

“Cleric Caste’s first love is the preservation of Terra’s history.” Judd insisted.

“I prefer to preserve people, not books that do no one any good.” Sir Fereak said firmly. “Fort Omra has a hard enough time maintaining enough land for crops and metal for swords than to start flinging coin at a room no one goes into.”

Caste’s jaw tightened. He waited until Fereak, Kenet and Judd had started up their own conversation before leaning towards Severo. “I was speaking with your,” Caste wanted to say librarian but he suspected that Severo wouldn’t know who he was talking about, “servant in the library…about a tapestry hanging in there.”

“Tapestry?” Severo looked up, eyes bloodshot and glassy.

“Of the mount of Maul…possibly from the south?”

“You’ve been listening to her fatuous prattle about the south being occupied by humans.” Severo grunted, slopping wine down the front of his cappa clausa. He flicked it and Caste felt some drops land on his face, wiping them away with growing disgust. “Pay her no mind.”

“What about the other manuscripts?” Caste leaned down, trying to catch Severo’s eye. “The ones that were in the chest with the tapestry?”

“Back where they belong…” Severo waved his hand clumsily.

“Belong?” Caste could see Severo’s grip on coherent speak was slipping. Caste arched forward. “Some of your manuscripts are completely unique and have not been copied so that they can be preserved in the library of Astaril…” Severo shrugged and mumbled something Caste couldn’t understand. “If I could see these manuscripts, I could transcribe them and take them to the Order of the Grail…”

“Drowned…drown, drown…” Severo’s head slumped onto his chest.

“Cleric Severo?” Caste strained to hear him as he mumbled.

“…unjust…foundations…”

“Cleric Severo?” Caste frowned when he heard the old man snore.

“That is all you will pry from him tonight.” Caste turned to Lady Fereak who sipped daintily from a feminine sized goblet. “He would be dead months ago if not for his love of wine…” Caste wondered if that was frighteningly true and sighed, sitting back in his chair. “Giordi Gavoli, was it?” Giordi bowed as deeply as his seated position would allow. “Pray, do you know the songs surrounding Sir Omra?”

“I have been availed of their lyrical lasciviousness.” Giordi smiled. “The reputation of all the other knights surrounding Andigre, including the man himself, are quite subdued but Sir Omra’s reputation was that of a deeply passionate knight.”

“I have many of his exploits committed to memory,” Lady Fereak picked a strawberry from the fruit platter, “the taste of her lips…”

“The taste of her lips,

Succulent…divine.

The velvet of her tongue,

Her swanlike neckline.

Her cheeks frosted,

With blush and with tears

Her limpid eyes

Her tender ears.

The curves of her shoulders,

The curves of her waist,

The curves of her bosom…”

“That is quite enough of that, thank you!” Caste blurted, shattering the heady mood that had developed. Giordi’s warm voice had captured their attention but his rather evocative words had arrested them completely.

Judd swallowed and tugged on his collar as Kenet huffed.

“Clerics…eunuchs the lot of them.”

Caste’s face flushed hot and he looked down at his plate.

“If we have offended you, Sir Fereak…” Judd blurted.

“Not at all. This fort was built in Sir Omra’s memory and he was no stranger to erotic diversion.”

“What a shame the same could not be said of its current master.” Lady Fereak said, not looking at her husband as she pried a snail from its shell.

“Ah yes, I am indeed a disappointment to you,” Sir Fereak shook his head, “if only you had not been so hasty in your determination to marry a knight you might have realised not I, nor any other knight, lives up to any reputation laid down by our forefathers.”

Judd was starting to wonder if there was a table in any fort or manor house that he would feel comfortable at. Sir and Lady Fereak seemed to be determined to tear strips off each other without care as to who they were making squirm.

“I have had a thought regarding Sir Omra’s reputation with the ladies.” Giordi said as though the mood was not thick with tension. “The stories about his conquests are quite numerous and graphic…to the point where I do wonder if he was a confirmed bachelor or was in love with a single woman.”

“Then why not say as much?” Caste grunted, unable to look anyone in the eye.

“Maybe she was married. Maybe it was Grail and Sir Omra would not dream of crossing Sir Andigre?” Giordi paused and smiled warmly. “Maybe there was just one woman and Sir Omra’s stories of passion and regard were for her and her alone? After all, just because the passion in most marriages fade, does not mean they all do.”

“A minstrel and a philosopher…how intriguing…”

Judd wondered if Giordi could hear the hook Lady Fereak was dangling in front of him.

Then he kicked himself.

Of course Giordi would recognise it.

When it came to women, there wasn’t much he missed.