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Saurus approached the outward camp tentatively, overlooking the people that now resided outside the city walls. For the most part, they appeared to be a gathering of common folk, sprinkled with some armed soldiers. Yes, something was very wrong about this, Saurus thought. When the people saw Saurus riding to meet them atop an enormous elk, many fled, others called out and pointed. Saurus heard one soldier shout: “The Empire returns!”

Hadwin could be seen clearly now, awaiting Saurus as if he could not quite believe his eyes. Saurus couldn’t see the two brothers that joined Hadwin on his return journey but was thrilled to at least have one friendly face among the onlookers.

The Great Elk halted before the gathering mob, its antlers high casting shadowed rivers across the people’s faces.

“What is happening here?” Saurus demanded, finding his Lord Commander’s voice. Hadwin drew closer, his steps sheepish; the elk towered over him.

“My Lord? Is it really you?” Hadwin said. Saurus frowned, then realised the look Hadwin gave him was of utter disbelief. Had news of Wetbrook reached the ears of Leeside already? If so, how?

“Tell me, Hadwin,” Saurus said dismounting, “Who are all these people, why are they camped outside the walls?”

Hadwin watched as Saurus pulled his son from the elk, his body falling limply as Saurus tugged.

“They're—citizens of Leeside my Lord,” Hadwin answered, noticing the severe catatonic state of Alaric. His words were slow and distant, “The city has been taken. The Duchess’ royal guard are protecting the walls. Many people have fled, some have stayed to await your return.”

Saurus carried Alaric in his arms, absorbing the words but not reacting. His mind felt crammed, his emotions spent.

“I need a Master, Hadwin, quickly.” He said. Hadwin paused a moment then turned abruptly. The onlookers all retreated slightly at Hadwin’s sudden movement.

“Yes, follow me, my Lord,” Hadwin said, splitting the onlookers in half. Saurus followed him, leaving behind the elk which watched him intently. The people starred at Saurus, starred at Alaric in his arms. None said anything as he walked.

They reached a tent bearing a red-tipped roof, Hadwin peeled back the tent flap to release a wave of incense. Inside he saw a woman, her robes would have originally been snow-white, now they displayed colours that unnerved Saurus. Hadwin turned seeing his Lord Commander's worry.

“This is Lady Maleeka, my Lord,” Hadwin announced, Maleeka turned to reveal a leathered face of tanned skin. She was older than most Masters, Saurus guessed sixty but she could have been older. She took her time as she rose, disregarding an unconscious youth on the ground.

“Good evening my Lord,” she croaked, her squinted eyes seemed almost shut as she held out a gloved hand. Saurus thought she went to shake his hand, not realising he was holding the body of his son; but instead, she used that gloved hand to stroke back Alaric’s fringe.

“Hmm,” she hummed, sucking at her gums. Single strands of wiry hair sprouted across the old woman’s upper lip; liver spots creased her predominant cheekbones.

“Lay him down,” she said, “Over there by the fire if it pleases you,”

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Saurus obeyed the woman, feeling Hadwin’s heavy eyes follow him. When Alaric was rested the woman gave out another croak.

“You should eat my Lord, you look tired from your journey,”

Saurus turned but the woman was tending to the unconscious youth once again. She didn’t even look at Saurus as she continued: “Outside you’ll find hot porridge and jam. The jam upsets my stomach, but I am old unlike you. Don’t return until you’ve eaten, and I’ll take a look at that arm.”

The woman sniffed and Saurus had almost forgotten about his own wound.

“My son?” he asked. The woman did not turn.

“Plenty of time in the day to tend to your son my Lord. Please, come back after you have eaten. Don’t forget the jam.”

Saurus felt a heavy hand grip his shoulder from Hadwin. He wanted the woman to tend to his son now, not later. But Saurus submitted, retreating from the tent hurriedly. Now that he felt slightly at ease, knowing his son was in a master’s tent, he realised just how weak he actually was. He collapsed on a wooden crate, his head feeling dizzy. Hadwin returned to him a moment later, a steaming bowl of thick porridge in hand. In the centre of the porridge was a dollop of black jam.

“Eat this, my Lord,” Hadwin said, “The Master’s right.”

Saurus scooped the wooden spoon through the thick porridge and brought it his mouth. The porridge burned his tongue but Saurus didn’t notice. He shuffled more of the food in, his body suddenly growing desperate for the energy. Before he was finished, he heard a voice call out beside him.

“What happened Saurus…In Wetbrook.”

Saurus froze, wooden spoon floating in front of his mouth. His appetite vanished in a heartbeat. He lowered the bowl of porridge.

“It was a trap Hadwin,” he said through cracked lips. “They’re all—dead.”

Hadwin leaned back, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

“The town hall was packed with Sphene Dust,” Saurus continued, “She burned them all Hadwin—they’re all still there, in Wetbrook.” Saurus faltered, feeling a new wave of emotion begin to accumulate. “If not for Alaric—I’d be dead too.”

There was an extended pause, Saurus starred out at the trampled ground, reliving the event behind his eyes.

“And the Spider Queen?” Hadwin asked.

“Dead.” Replied Saurus. Another pause. This time it was Saurus who spoke.

“Your brothers Hadwin? The two that left with you?”

Hadwin continued to stroke his beard, his eyes also glazed in thought.

“Dead, my Lord. Ambush on the cliffs.”

Saurus tossed his bowl of porridge off to the side, it hit the dirt with a ‘thunk’ but the little remaining porridge inside the bowl, stuck stubbornly. A dog appeared next to Saurus, timidly licking at the bowl; its ribs were visible beneath its sand-coloured fur.

“Your arm, my Lord.” Hadwin said, “Come on,”

Hadwin rose, pulling Saurus up by his good arm. Together they entered the tent that housed Maleeka—and Alaric.

Inside the tent, Maleeka had moved Alaric into an upright position, his back comfortably supported by a sky-blue cushion. Maleeka seemed to show more interest in the other youth that was now stirring. Saurus watched as the Master calmed the youth, gently pouring water into his mouth.

“Slowly child,” she insisted when the youth sucked greedily at the shallow bowl of water.

“My son?” Saurus said. The old woman rose, her knees creaking as she did. She addressed Saurus, her bottom lip curling as she sucked at her gums.

“Your son is alive, but his mind is broken,” Maleeka stated. Her words were absolute.

“Fix him then?” Saurus barked. He felt the tension permeate off Hadwin to his back.

“You cannot fill a broken mind,” Maleeka said, “The same way, you cannot fill a cracked pot with water,”

“Then fix the mind!” Saurus objected. The woman cackled.

“I’m afraid not my Lord. Mind and body are two sides to the same coin yes, but one cannot be fixed as easily as the other.”

“There must be something?” Hadwin injected, holding out a palm. Despite the two men that closed in on Maleeka, the old woman stood her ground.

“There is something,” she added, Saurus and Hadwin waited.

“Some say death is a cleaner alternative.”

Saurus’ hand flashed upwards, striking the old woman on the cheek. Maleeka did not fall, but her tanned cheek flared red almost immediately. Hadwin grabbed Saurus, but Saurus could hardly believe what he had done himself. His hand was shaking violently, tears formed unbeckoned and Saurus found he was breathing uncontrollably.

“Forgive it, my Lady,” Hadwin pleaded. Saurus was still looking at his raised hand in disbelief as if it acted on its own accord.

“For-forgive me,” Saurus muttered.

Maleeka squinted at Saurus, seemingly undeterred by the slap. Saurus guessed she had been at the mercy of them a few times before.

“Some men,” she said, “Prefer a lie, then a hard truth.”