As the travellers headed steadily inland and northward towards the town of Quarre, the ground became decidedly rockier. It was not without grass or shrubbery and there were plenty of streams, some of which were so wide they had to wade through rather than jump over. Trees were in small groves where there was enough earth to set down deep enough roots. None of them were particularly large and their trunks were not wide due to the limitations of the landscape and very few produced fruit. However, there were several berry bushes and as they trekked onward, looking forward to recovering their horses so that they could take the burden of their packs, their mouths became stained with blackberry juice.

Giordi smacked his lips and sighed. “Delicious. Right, again Judd.”

Judd cleared his throat. “Sir Achard, thank you for your gracious invitation that I can…”

“May.”

“That I may dine at your table.”

“You are welcome, Sir LaMogre,” Giordi said in a deep, affected voice which he said he adopted for the solemnest of songs, “please, allow me introduce you to my wife, Lady Gaillot Archard.”

“My lady, the descriptions of your beauty do no justice for you are lovelier in person than they have led me to believe.” Judd paused. “Is that really appropriate to say while her husband is standing there?”

“Trust me, it’s better when he’s there…unless he’s of the insecure variety of husband who immediately orders you flogged or run out of town.” Giordi assured him.

Judd frowned. “What if she isn’t lovely?”

“Have you ever known a knight to marry a hag?” Giordi raised his eyebrows. “Why be a knight if you cannot have the pick of the loveliest ladies?”

Judd made very sure he did not look at Aalis when he spoke. “What about love?”

“I’m not sure many of them do.”

“But you sing love ballads all the time.”

“Again, they’re all dead and can’t correct the inaccuracy of the lyrics. It’s the notion of romantic love rather than the reality of marrying a knight that people want to hear.”

Judd tapped his teeth together. “What if the knight loved a woman of less than…lovely appearance…or acceptable…”

“Repute?” Judd shrugged awkwardly. “I don’t think knights are allowed to but upon that score, we should consult our resident cleric. Oh Caste!”

“This should be good.” Caste attempted to jog to reach them but it was barely faster than walking and he was already panting. “What is it?”

“Are knights are allowed to marry anyone they choose or is there a selection criteria?”

Caste gave them a deathless glare. “Why don’t we see if Judd makes it to knighthood before we start worrying about who he is going to marry?”

“Humour us.” Giordi teased. “You’re not going to let slip an opportunity to teach us something, are you?”

Caste ground his teeth together. “Fine. A knight may marry anyone he chooses…however, the marriage must always be blessed by the King and condoned by the Bishop of the Order of the Grail and if either of them disapprove, the knight must break off the courtship.”

“That’s it?”

“He can marry the woman but only if he renounces his knighthood.”

Judd felt the blood drain out of his face. “That’s…quite the test.”

“Have no fear, Judd LaMogre,” Giordi grasped his shoulders and shook him, “you will be swamped with offers by the time you reach knighthood.”

“If they can only be of women of approved repute, I’m going to end up a bachelor. It’s already been made clear that my middle class background is a problem and I doubt that’s just suddenly going to dissipate even if and when I become a knight, elevated to the status of nobility.”

“Consider yourself fortunate you can marry at all.” Caste muttered then felt their glances. “What?”

“I thought clerics could marry.”

“It’s not encouraged and a sure-fire way of never making bishop or even archdeacon as women are known to addle the brain and make a man useless.” Caste waved his hands. “But that’s not what I meant. Back in the days of Andigre and Grail and the Four Spire Knights, knights were not permitted to marry. Oh no…not another stream…”

“You can use these stones to cross.” Aalis pointed to the path she and Verne had taken. “We’re going to that cluster of trees. Verne thinks we can have pheasant for supper.”

“Alright!” Judd waved then he and Giordi crossed the stream with rapid nimbleness then turned and waited for Caste. He perched, slipped, froze and clambered over the stream, managing to completely soak his left leg. Judd grasped his arm and pulled him onto their side and Caste lamented the state of his clothes.

“Just…let me wring out my sock.” He begged and pulled his shoe off, water trickling out of it.

Judd sat on a boulder and Giordi flopped onto the ground. Butterflies danced over dandelions. Giordi plucked one and blew on it, sending dozens of little fronds flying, caught on the breeze. Dragonflies darted over the stream, attracted to the water and their buzzing wings filled the air with a continual but pleasant hum.

“If knights could not marry…what are all the love ballads about?”

Giordi snorted then saw Judd’s expression. “Oh, you’re serious.”

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“Even I know the answer to that.” Caste muttered, wringing his sock tightly.

“Just because they could not marry, doesn’t mean they couldn’t…romance and enjoy a woman’s attentions, both in public and privately.”

“I thought you’d stoop to a less tactful explanation than that.” Caste pulled his sock on then slid it into his boot, grimacing.

“He happily romanced her in public before she succumbed to his attentions, her gates of pleasure flung wide as she gave up her forbidden fruits in a mad tumble.” Giordi folded his arms. “Is that what you were expecting?”

Both Judd and Caste’s expressions were bright red.

“That’s about right…” Caste squeaked, picking up his pack.

Judd busied himself with adjusting his pack, wishing he wasn’t quite so embarrassed by Giordi’s bluntness. He hadn’t had that much experience with women. Working on the docks meant he always smelt of fish and it was hard to remove it entirely from his body. Even now, as he recalled just how strong the smell could be, he put his fingertips to his nose. It was unfortunate that he had only handled fish the night before, for the smell immediately took him back to the sundrenched hours hauling in netloads of fish, gutting, descaling and salting endless varieties and countless tonnes.

“Why weren’t knights allowed to marry?” He asked, forcing the memory out of his mind.

“It probably had something to do with the fragile nature of the kingdom of Astaril and the country of Terra in the years following the construction of the wall.” Caste explained. “Sir, I beg your pardon, King Andigre wouldn’t have wanted knights marrying and producing heirs when he was just establishing his own royal line.”

“He might have seen other knights as a threat and made it a condition of knighthood.” Giordi concluded.

“But the Four Spire Knights were said to be Andigre’s friends, not just warriors but his closest allies.” Judd argued as they walked in the direction of the copse Verne and Aalis were nearing.

“Don’t forget that each of Andigre’s knights fell during the construction of the wall.” Caste cringed every time he put his left foot down, his boot and sock squelching. “All of them…Omra, Mavour, Callain and Verion…they gave their lives to hold back the monsters of Maul. There was no one left other than Andigre and Grail to begin the united kingdom of Astaril.”

“So why did it change?”

“Probably for many reasons but in the end, a knight was considered to be an upper class citizen…and if he had children then they would also be upper class and the sons could go on to pursue knighthood and the daughters became eligible matches for other knights, thus creating the notion of nobility and class distinction.” Caste shrugged. “At least, that’s how it seems to me. My thesis has yet to be publicly approved by Bishop Peele.”

“There you are.” Giordi cleared his throat. “Now, where were we…oh yes, greeting a knight and his lady. Now you know knights clasp their arms together like so,” he held out his arm and Judd did the same, each of their hands grasping the other’s forearm in a strong hold, “but for a lady, you are permitted to kiss her hand.”

“Right…” Judd said awkwardly. “We’re not going to practice that…are we?”

“Well…perhaps not you and I…Oh Aalis!”

“You…” Judd ground out an unpleasant description of Giordi as he jogged towards Aalis who was just tying the bodies of pheasants to her belt, Verne’s sharp aim collecting three for their supper.

“We need a lady for Judd’s eloquence and manners training.”

“I really do not think…”

“Trust me, it would be more awkward if he kissed my hand.” Giordi chuckled and drew her forward. “Now I will be the host knight, Aalis will be my wife and Judd will be Judd.”

Judd shrugged helplessly at Aalis who was wide eyed and nervous.

“This will be good.” Caste sat on a boulder and took his boot and sock off once more, laying them out to dry.

“Sir Judd LaMogre, welcome to my home.” Giordi held out his arm to Judd who groaned.

“Sir Archard, thank you for your gracious invitation that I may dine at your table.” He said, clasping Giordi’s arm in a firm grip.

“For one who has rid my province of a foul monster, it is the least I can do.”

“No, no…no improvising.” Judd warned.

Giordi chuckled. “May I introduce my wife, Lady Gaillot Archard.”

“My lady, the descriptions of your beauty do no justice for you are lovelier in person than they have led me to believe.” Judd recited stiffly.

“Sir LaMogre, you are too kind.” Aalis replied quietly, bobbing into a curtsey.

“Now a lady will offer her hand, giving you permission to kiss it.”

“No, no, no…” Caste barked, causing Aalis and Judd’s outstretched hands to recoil like they’d been burned. “First the guest must ask permission of the host if he may kiss his wife’s hand.”

Giordi raised an eyebrow at the red headed cleric who had little highlights of copper from the bright bursts of sunshine. “Surely not,” he countered, “I’ve seen this greeting many times and it is assumed…”

Caste held up one hand for silence, the other clutching the small book that looked like it was barely holding itself together. “To kiss a married woman’s hand, regardless of her social status, requires first the permission of her husband.” He read and looked up.

“Let me see that.” Giordi grasped the book. “Good grief…this is so old…it’s probably from Andigre’s era.”

“And it is very delicate.” Caste said in a dangerous tone, taking it back gently.

“You don’t think such manners are a little outdated?”

“Actually,” Judd interjected, “I prefer the custom of asking for permission before kissing a married woman’s hand.”

Giordi turned to Caste. “What if it is refused?”

Caste turned the page. “If permission is refused, the guest must accept the refusal, however impolite it is in the role of a good host, with gracious acceptance.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “Something along the lines of…a husband who keeps others from his wife…I applaud you sir.” Giordi snorted into laughter. Caste snapped the book shut. “You do better.”

Giordi bowed with a grand flourish. “I acquiesce in deference to your ascendancy.”

Judd gaped. “What does that mean?”

“I agree to yield cause you’re her husband.” Giordi beamed. “Quite frankly you’ll be fortunate if the host understands you but if he doesn’t, he’ll pretend that he does and go on to be flattered and his wife’s virtue, intact.”

Caste slapped his hand over his face.

“What about unmarried women?” Judd asked. “I mean, daughters of knights?”

“Any woman in the care of another male.” Caste rapped on the book.

“That rules them all out!” Giordi lamented then sat next to Caste. “What if they throw themselves at you?”

“Let go of my book!”

Giordi held it aloft, taller than Caste. “Let’s see in the index. Table manners, courtship guidelines…punishment for acts of adultery, reconciliation through the rite of purification…how is that relevant to today?”

“It’s tradition and culture from the founding of Astaril which makes it timeless and precious so give it back!”

Giordi crowed in delight. “There’s a section purely dedicated to hem and sleeve length, corset height and cleavage allowance!” He looked at Caste. “Have you been holding out on us?”

Caste’s face was red with fury. “I swear…”

“It’s got illustrations! She’s got a lovely neckline!”

“Give it back you wretched warbler!”

“Cantankerous cleric!”

Judd glanced at Aalis who was pressing her lips together to keep from smiling.

“Sorry.” He whispered.

“I said you could practice your manners with me.” She returned quietly.

“I never thought it would mean kissing you…I mean, your hand!” Judd flushed red and tugged on his collar.

“You have not actually kissed my hand.” She held it out to him. Judd stared at it. “Something wrong?”

“No…just…I never thought my kiss would be up for assessment.” He swallowed.

“You do not devour my hand.” She laughed. “You barely touch it with your lips.” She wiggled her fingers at him and Judd swallowed again, taking her fingers. “Lift them up a little without lifting me off my toes, lean down and…” Judd brushed his lips across the top of her hand. “Perfect.”

He beamed then rubbed the back of his neck self consciously.

“Delicately done,” Giordi said, relinquishing the book to the cleric, Caste storming off in a huff, limping with only one shoe on, “and just for your own judgement, you can gauge a great deal about the intent of the young man by the manner in which he kisses the hand and about its reception by the way the young woman reacts.”

“Really?”

Giordi nodded. “Really.”