Myra awoke suddenly when a booted foot prodded her shoulder. She shot up in a panic and slashed out with her knife clumsily, sending the weapon flying from her hand. Rollo leapt back with a gasp.

“Hell’s bells!” the servant cried. “I would have gone to the kennels if I wanted to get my leg torn off by a mad bitch.” Myra had given the poor little man quite a fright.

“Oh… it’s just you Rollo,” Myra forced herself to sit up, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “My bad. I don’t care for early wake-up calls.”

“You made that clear enough,” muttered Rollo. He sighed. “I knew I just should have let the stable-boys call in some guards to haul your drunk arse off to the dungeons. But no, that wouldn’t be courteous to a poor traveller now would it…”

“Stables?” Myra looked around. She had been lost in a dream and had practically forgotten about the night before. She was sitting in a bale of hay, the sound and stench of horses all around her.

“Oh,” she said. Holding up the near empty wine-jug that had lain beside her, as if noticing it for the first time. “I… I just needed some peace and quiet…” She didn’t mention that she had cried herself to sleep the night before. She drowsily reached up a hand and pushed away the muzzle of a horse that had started chewing on her hair. “I like animals.”

“Gods… I miss civilisation. Well, I’m not here to gossip. If you have a message for Sir Erasmus, I may pass it on to him when I confirm that you are alive.”

“Erasmus? Oh gods… I forgot… Where is he now?”

“In bed. Probably with a fever. I told him to stay out of trouble of course, but no… he…”

“A fever?” Myra shot up. “Why? What happened?”

Rollo clicked his tongue. “And what does that matter to you?” he said with a sneer.

Before the short man had even realised Myra had moved she was standing over him. She grabbed Rollo’s tunic beneath his throat and nearly hoisted him from his feet.

“What… happened?” Myra said coldly. Rollo broke into a sweat, almost too frightened to speak.

“I… I don’t really know! Erasmus went running around town with some foreigners… and something about the head-hunter that gave him that wound. For heaven’s sake woman, let me…”

Rollo lost his footing when Myra let go of him, sending him stumbling into a pile of hay. He flailed about angrily as he struggled to get up. “Son of a…! Help me up woman! Before I smell like a stable!” But Myra had already gone. Rollo sat there dejectedly, while a horse leaned over and began chewing on his hair.

Myra, not caring if she was seen by anyone, hurried from the barrack’s stables and to Erasmus’s chamber. She did not know exactly why, but she was worried. For the past few days, since Garth and all the others had died before her eyes, her life had become a pit of fear and despair. The only light left to shine a light in the darkness was Erasmus, yet he seemed as distant as the stars in the sky. She could not bear the thought of her grief going unavenged, but to lose Erasmus as well…

Not watching where she was going, Myra rounded a corner, and nearly barrelled into a stocky old man with bulky, tattooed arms.

“Bru na boeg!” the old man exclaimed. “Watch your step girl!”

“You watch your step you old…” the words caught in her throat. The man before her was a Ranger. And behind him was a woman in a white cloak, Lady Erda.

“Eh? What was that?” Ruadh glowered at Myra. “Old what now? Do you bloody Thanes have no respect for elders?”

“At ease, Ruadh. Can’t you see the poor girl’s distressed.” Erda laid a hand on the Ranger’s shoulder and stepped forward to look Myra in the eye. “Come now, what ails you?”

Myra was at a loss for words, for she had never been talked to by a noblewoman before. And now up close, this Lady Erda seemed like she belonged to an entirely different species compared to the hard, frost-bitten women of the Wargs (note: Myra is from the Warg tribes). She was soft and elegant, with a warm and radiant smile, rosy red cheeks and hair like coils of golden wire. Myra blushed, realising that she was still wearing her dirty traveller’s habit, with stray strands of straw clinging to it.

“Nothing!” she stammered. “I mean… I’m late for… for something. Beg your pardon… my lady.” Myra made that last bit sound like a question.

“I see,” said Erda, not seeming to believe that story very much. “Well, may your day be a blessed one. Come Ruadh, Erasmus’ quarters is just up ahead.

The old Ranger grumbled. “Still, it’s a bit unseemly for you to be visiting a lone soldier in a barracks like this…”

Erda laughed. “Come now, Ruadh. Sir Erasmus is a friend.”

Nim smirked. “He’s just jealous because our Paladin friend is much more handsome…”

“What nonsense!” Ruadh said in a bluster. “Let’s just get this over and done with and head back to the palace. We’ve still much to discuss with the Thanes.”

The Rangers and their queen walked on by, while Myra stared after them, her mind racing. Hesitantly, she followed after them. She arrived at Erasmus’ chamber-door, which was slightly open. Voices issued from within. Myra crept over to it and peered inside. She could just make out the form of Erasmus, half-sitting up in his bed, while Erda was sat beside him, Ruadh and Nim waiting by in silence. Erasmus and Erda were both smiling and chatting, while the Ranger-queen inspected the paladin’s wounded cheek. Myra’s heart went cold.

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“Pardon my sorry state, Lady Erda,” Erasmus said. “If I had known you were coming I would have tidied up a bit. My squire is just out on some errands…”

“Do not worry about such things.” The beautiful noblewoman smiled a little too broadly for Myra’s liking. “My companions might not see it that way, but I am in your debt for what you did last night. It’s the least I can do to give you a physician’s treatment. Oh but look at your face, you poor thing. You’ve clearly had a rough time these last few days.”

“My lady, I agree wholeheartedly.” Erasmus laughed. “Your patient probably won’t be thanking me himself any time soon, yet it is I who am the grateful. I am most honoured by your presence, Lady Erda.”

“Please, you may simply call me Erda.”

Myra could not bear it anymore. As quickly as she could without making much noise, she scurried away from the door, holding back her tears. When she felt she had gone far enough, she pressed her back to a wall and slumped down, holding her head in her hands. She was confused, angry, upset, though it hurt her more that she could not truly understand why. And when she tried to understand, it only made the pain worse. Why should she feel like this? And over what? Erasmus? He was a Paladin, one of the enemies of her blood. And she was just some nameless she-wolf come down from the north to pillage and slay. Life had been so simple before, when she had nothing to live for.

No. You still had nothing to live for, she thought to herself. You only managed to fool yourself for a time.

Lost in her own bitter thoughts, she didn’t hear the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Hey! You there! You’re not a serving maid. What are you doing here?”

She looked up to see a trio of soldiers, wearing simple tunics and looking tired and bleary eyed, clearly from last night’s festivities.

“Well, I asked you a question. What are you doing here?” said the leader of the bunch, a sharp, angry looking man with a messy shock of red hair. “The barracks is off limits to commoners. Good lords, are you covered in straw?”

“Looks like a drunk, Joren,” said another soldier. “If you have morning regrets, go sleep it off somewhere else!”

“Don’t worry about her,” said a voice from behind the soldiers. “That one’s with me.”

The soldiers turned to see the newcomer. Myra looked up, and remembered her rage. The Head Hunter was standing there with a sardonic grin, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. Myra could hardly believe it. The man should be bed-ridden. How could he be up and walking with such a fearsome wound in his side.

“Head Hunter!? What are you…” the one named Joren stumbled over the words.

“Doing here?” Pike said. “Don’t you know? I’m a guest of your king’s niece. And she…” Pike pointed to Myra, hardly able to contain his wicked laughter. “…Is my woman. A servant really, but gods can she pleasure a man.”

The colour faded from Myra’s face. Joren gripped his sword, almost shaking with anger. “You’ve got some nerve to even show your face in this city,” he said. “After what you did to Sir Erasmus…”

“Did what? Give that gaudy clown a little scratch after picking a fight with me? Such trash isn’t worth the effort of killing. Or perhaps you think you can fair better than that Paladin bastard? I was planning on sword practice today anyway.”

Joren scowled. “Well I wasn’t. Some of us have more important things to do than to squabble with vagabonds.”

“Yeah. You’re lucky that we’re too hungover, ya bastard,” said another soldier, a large bearded man.

“Shut up, Kregan,” snapped Joren. “We have royal business to see to. Wasn’t that right, Scale?”

The third soldier nodded, tall and gaunt save for the broad shoulders of an archer. “Aye. Let’s get going before we’re missed too badly. Until next time, Head Hunter.”

The soldiers gave Pike the cold shoulder and marched off with shaky steps, trying their best to appear at full fighting strength, despite their hangovers. Pike glared daggers at their backs until they had gone. He turned back to Myra, clearly amused with himself.

“Seems that’s twice you owe me now. Or maybe it’s the third. If you had your way, you would have been dead since yesterday. And there are those who say I am without mercy…”

“You… son of a bitch.” Myra said through clenched teeth. “How are you even walking upright now?”

Pike smirked. “I told you, I’m not that easy to kill. Lucky for you. Now you still have an excuse to stay in this bloody city and be close to that Paladin peacock…”

Myra shot up, shaking in anger. “Don’t you dare speak another word about Sir Erasmus! A monster like you isn’t worthy of even mentioning that man’s name!”

“Oh dear, for a Warg savage, you’re more of a hopeless romantic than I thought. Perhaps killing you would be the merciful thing. You would be spared from the disappointment then.”

“You’re wrong! Erasmus is a true man, an honourable man…”

Pike threw back his head and laughed. “Honour? An outlaw preaching that nonsense? If I dressed up in fancy clothes and had a chin that was more chiselled, you’d be following my heals and hunting bandits.” Pike laughed again. Myra bit her lip until she tasted blood in her mouth, forcing herself not rise to the Head Hunter’s bait.

“Witty observations aside, I’m not that surprised. After all; raiders, outlaws, knights, they’re all the same thing. A dog is still a dog, no matter how fancy his leash might be. Erasmus can speak his flowery foolishness all he likes to get girls into his bed. But will he remember them when his masters let him loose? When he gets the chance, that Paladin will forget his honour and show his fangs. And that is why he will never be a match for me as a warrior. Unlike him, this wolf is not burdened by so much sheep’s clothing…”

“Don’t talk so boldly about what you don’t understand!” Myra snapped. “You weren’t there to see him that night. The night he saved my life… and has asked for nothing in return.”

“And now you’re his doting admirer. Of course he didn’t ask for anything in return, he didn’t have to. You utter fool. Go on, go to him. Go confess for admiration for him. See if he really cares. But I’m certain you are already aware of his pretty new friend that’s in his chambers right now; the lovely Lady Erda.”

Pike’s face went dark, as if deep rage was welling to the surface. “That sneaky bastard… Used me as an excuse to get close to her, no doubt,” he said, as if to himself. “Listen well, outlaw, nobody… no one in this whole rotten world does anything unless it's for a reward. You’re lying to yourself if you think Erasmus is any different. Do you think he’d care if you died today? He’s already caught sight of a prettier prize anyway. Aah, but I just remembered… now you don’t have anything to hold you back from your little quest for vengeance. Right? Well, I don’t have any reason to stay here very long. What do you say? Why don’t you pick up a sword and give it go? Prove that you still give a damn that Garth fellow.”

She rose to her feet, very slowly, and then walked past Pike without lifting her eyes from the ground. Before she went to round a corner and disappear from Pike's sight, she halted.

"Do you think that's supposed to hurt me? That Erasmus would have eyes for another woman? Of course he does. A man like him deserves nothing less than a beautiful noblewoman for a wife. I am not as selfish as you are, Head Hunter. To even have met someone like him is enough…"

She turned and locked eyes with Pike. He raised an eyebrow in confusion. How had she suddenly become so composed?

“You say Erasmus speaks flowery foolishness? You should listen to your own words… remember them… repeat them to yourself. Let them comfort you when you lie alone in the cold night. I at least will have the memory of great men to keep me warm. What will you have?” Without another word, she rounded the corner and was gone.