Erasmus was dreaming of happier days, when wooden swords shined brighter than steel, and every green hill loomed larger than a mountain. He was a boy again, racing towards some new adventure. The wind through the grass, and the songs of birds, sounded as sweet as silver bells. If he listened closely, the birdsong were bugles, and the grass were crowds of people, cheering the boy’s return from his grand quest.

“Erasmus!” he heard his name called. But the boy stopped running, for that was no cheer from an adoring crowd. It was the dread voice of a grown-up, summoning him to his chores.

“Erasmus!” came the voice again.

Slowly, reluctantly, he turned to face whoever was shouting his name, but was met with a blinding light.

“For Heaven’s sake, wake up Erasmus.”

Grunting, Erasmus raised a weary arm to shield his face from the light and rolled over. “Go away,” he muttered. “My head hurts…”

“As it should, you damned fool,” the nasally voice sighed. “You’re lucky to still have a head, after all the foolish things you’ve done.”

Erasmus sat up immediately, though it made his head spin dreadfully. “Captain!”

Gideon Grimfles was looming over Erasmus’ bed, staring down the length of his silver nose. “You’ve gone and put your foot in it this time, Erasmus.”

“My lord,” a woman dressed all in white said nervously, peering through the doorway of the small room. “Sir Erasmus really ought to be resting.”

Erasmus went to raise a hand to his throbbing head, but a searing pain ran up the length of his left arm and made him wince. His forearm was wrapped in bandages, and he could now feel the threads pinching his stitched flesh together.

“Please lie down, Sir Erasmus,” said the woman. Her name was Louise, a sister of Saint Valerian’s Hospital. Erasmus had been tended by those holy women enough to know most of them by name. “You’re arm has become infected,” she continued. “If you don’t rest, the rot will spread and you’ll catch fever.”

“Thank you Sister,” said Gideon impatiently. “But time marches on, and we’ve things to discuss.”

The sister nodded meekly and left the room, closing the door behind her. Gideon sighed and eased his himself into a chair by the bedside table, his height still making him tower over Erasmus.

“You are a very absurd man, Erasmus.” Gideon pulled out a long pipe and began filling it with tobacco. “What in the world where you thinking? Brawling in the street like a barbarian. You’re a knight for Heaven’s sake!”

“Brawl?” Erasmus lay his head back down on the pillow. His entire body seemed to throb. “What happened?”

“Don’t tell me they knocked your wits of your skull.” Gideon coughed as he took a pull from his pipe, wisps of smoke escaping from behind his false nose. “Or perhaps you were too drunk to remember.”

“Well… I may have been a little tipsy.”

Gideon look up at the roof in exasperation. “What am I ever going to do with you Erasmus? Well, if you need your memory jogged, you were rushed to hospital early this morning, after some citizens found your sorry carcass lying in the street. Clearly you had been quite savagely mauled.”

“I can believe that,” grunted Erasmus.

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“This is no laughing matter. The two men found lying next to you are waiting to be sized up for coffins. This is a bad look for for you, and for me, Erasmus. I’d wager the whole city is gossiping over the news, that one of my men got blind drunk and chopped up a pair of common men in the streets.”

“Wait, I remember!” Erasmus tried to sit up, but clutched his head in pain. “It wasn’t like that at all.”

“It wasn’t? Your bloody sword was still in the man’s head! You’ll be accused of murder.”

Erasmus eased himself back onto the pillow and told the story in full. Yesterday morning, he had been allowed to leave that very hospital, after his duel with the bounty-hunter. The sisters had told him that his left eye was now gone forever, and he’d bear an ugly scar for the rest of his life, once the bandages came off. The events of the last month, with Sir Hector dead, an eye gone, and nothing to show for it, left Erasmus feeling rather sorry for himself. Instead of returning home, he had put on his most casual clothing and wandered from pub to pub. He was only minding his own business, when he happened to witness two knife-wielding brutes accosting a lone woman.

“So,” Gideon raised an eyebrow, “those men were ruffians, and you were heroically rescuing a distressed damsel?”

“If you put it like that, yes.”

“While drunk?”

“Only a little.”

“You’re not lying to me, are you?”

“No sir.”

“I wish you were,” Gideon got to his feet and began pacing around the room. “Bullies and brawlers I know how to manage. But romantics in my ranks, those gave me grey hairs before my time.”

“I’m sorry, captain.”

“But heroics or not, the public will see a different story. No one has said anything about this woman you apparently rescued. So as far as anyone is concerned, you’ve still gone and made us all look bad. And it couldn’t have come at a worse time too, especially after you’re embarrassing little stunt in the market square.”

If he were standing, Erasmus would have hung his head in shame. “I… I’m sorry, captain.”

“What possessed you to go and do that anyway? You might not like it, but that bounty-hunter, is a fighter well beyond your own skill. You’re lucky to have walked away from that fight at all. Wait… don’t answer that. I know the reason already. He insulted the memory of our fallen brother, Sir Hector, and had the sword… but best not to talk about that out loud. You ought to have consulted me first though.”

Gideon strode over to the window, scratching at some scar-tissue beside his false nose. “But now that you’ve got your own fair share of scars, perhaps you’ll realise how fragile life really is.”

“Captain,” said Erasmus. “I’ve been meaning to ask you… about that sword.”

“Don’t make a habit of asking questions, Erasmus. It’s an unhealthy habit.”

“I understand it must be a powerful artefact, from ancient times.”

“It may be, or perhaps maybe not. I’ve… read a little about the thing. But the perception of powerful is a weapon in of itself.” Gideon sat back down next to Erasmus’ bed and leaned in close. “Every day that passes, we grow weaker, while our enemies grow in strength. Our company has been paid well to protect this city, but our patrons have been losing confidence in us. We need more power. Or at least, to seem like we do.”

Erasmus nodded weakly. “I understand sir.”

“I hope so. With enough strength and wit, you can win battles without ever having to fight them. That is every soldiers ambition, after all. And the secret to long life. Remember that, Erasmus.”

“But captain, what are we supposed to do about the sword now?”

“Leave that to me to worry about,” Gideon grinned wolfishly. “We know who carries it. That is good enough for me. But no need to rush to get it back. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open, see what our bounty-hunting friend can teach us about that weapon.

“But you, you silly man,” said Gideon quite suddenly. “Have your own worries. The least of which, a possible murder trial.”

“Oh, of course,” said Erasmus. “And this wretched headache. But don’t worry captain. Once I get out of this bed, I’ll have it all sorted out. Somewhere in the city, that woman is out there. All I need to do is find her, and she’ll be my witness.”

“Maybe,” Gideon scratched his chin. “But still, this woman was nowhere to be found. It will look bad if she doesn’t come forward of her own account.”

“I don’t understand why she wouldn’t.”

“Women are complicated creatures, so best not count on it. I understand you’re a little tight on money. I hope you’re not expecting me to pay for a false witness.”

“Of course not sir. And please don’t worry about it anymore. I’ll find this woman, she’ll attest my innocence.”

“See that she does, Erasmus. See that she does.”