Fort Bastil was built right up against the rugged coastline that almost sagged immediately to the north of the impressive structure until it became the soggy land that fed into the mangrove swamp. The ocean could be reached by three sets of stairs that ended on a wide dock where the fishing community of Fort Bastil toiled.

Aalis skipped down the steps as fast as she dared, avoiding the labourers carrying crates and pieces of equipment. Everything smelt of fish, of salt and of sweat. It was a powerful blend that threatened to turn her stomach. She ducked around the pulley and tackle elevators that took larger catches of fish and equipment up and down the cliff face without the need to clamber the steps, risking slipping on slimy patches of fishy spillage.

At the base there was almost an entire community separate to the rest of Fort Bastil. There were bathhouses, workshops, a baker attempting to fill the air with the scent of something other than seafood and numerous slaughter tables where fish were taken once sorted.

There were three piers stretching out from the dock. One of the two gaps created by the piers was a living tank, its sides and mouth enclosed with fishing net. The boats that hauled catches from the ocean would draw up alongside the catchment and dump their loads into the water, the fish remaining fresher for longer until they were ready to be killed, scaled, gutted and taken topside.

Aalis knew she was receiving some strange looks as there were very few women on the docks and certainly none that did not reek of the ocean but she darted about, her blue eyes constantly searching.

When she finally spied Judd, she nearly wept.

Whether it was with relief or grief, she was not sure.

He was standing at the edge of one of the piers, helping unload fish into the catchment from a newly returned boat. He had shed his boots and even his shirt, immediately fitting in amongst the other dockworkers, even down to the bowed aspect of his shoulders.

“Judd!” She cried, squeezing past rolls of rope and a hefty, belching fisherman to reach the end of the pier. “Judd?” He glanced ever so briefly in her direction then continued to work. She put her hand on his arm. “Judd…what are you doing here when you should be recovering?”

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And not just from the physical wounds he had sustained.

“Your administrations were more than adequate to get me back on my feet.” Judd said, shaking the net, dislodging the caught fish into the catchment.

Aalis was taken aback at his flat tone. “Then…what are you doing here?”

He swallowed and continued to work. “What I was born to do.”

“Born to do?”

“I’m the son of a fisherman who was the son of a fisherman and so on and so forth…it’s in my blood.”

He sounded like a completely different person. He’d lost his bounce, his buoyancy…his zeal for life and his hope for the future.

“But Judd,” Aalis licked her lips, “you hate fishing.”

He paused and closed his eyes. “But I’m at least competent at it…far better than I ever would be a knight.”

“No, Judd,” if he had been wearing a shirt she would have grabbed his collar and made him face her but she had to grasp his upper arms to try to turn his body away from the boat, “that is not true. You were on your way to becoming a remarkable knight.”

“Aalis…”

“It is true.”

“What would you know of knights and of being one?” Judd asked her sadly and without accusation. He lowered his head. “That’s what my father said to me. What could I possibly know about anything other than this…”

Aalis slid her hands down his arms and grasped his fingers. “I know that, without you, my village would have been decimated by that ogre who was desperate to feed on flesh. I know that the farmers at Fort Faine are blessing your name because you were able to defend them against toxic water and goblins…”

“The ogre fell on my sword, the farmers killed most of the goblins and you fixed the water.”

“What about Sir Jesa? You stood up to that knight for not protecting his own.”

“Like he even listened to me…”

“What about me, then?” Aalis trembled. “If not for you…those witches…that high priestess eyeball in the swamp…it would have buried itself into my brain and possessed me…”

Judd wouldn’t meet her gaze. “If not for me,” he said sadly, pulling his hands out of hers, “you would not have been put in danger…”

“Judd…”

“And I can’t drag you around the continent, exposing you to more danger when I can’t protect you…not like a knight should.” He stepped back and onto the boat. “I…I have work to do.”

Aalis watched the boat pull away from the pier, Judd’s shoulders bent as he went back to doing what he knew he could…

…even when it was the last thing in the world he wanted.

She looked up at the fort that leered over them, casting a great, black shadow with its imposing bulk. “Ugh!” She cried, kicking a random fish into the catchment and storming off the pier.