The visitors in the house seemed suddenly to breathe as one, and the noise called Aylee back from her reverie. When she turned to face the room, all of the men had begun to follow her father out the door. Assuming her position to be equal to theirs, she began to follow.

“No, Aylee,” her father barked. “Stay inside and cover us. If the enemy seem on the verge of overcoming us, only then use the fireshot. We would prefer to keep them alive.”

Though a tad disappointed, Aylee obeyed her father, relocating her position to the window that faced east toward the marsh. Almost before she could raise the fireshot in preparation, the ten men from her village had overpowered the five soldiers, and considering her best course, Aylee rushed out the door with several lengths of rope. A few minutes later, Aylee watched with satisfaction as one of the townsmen marched Malchus’s soldiers west toward the office of the portreeve. Though Aylee did not trust the portreeve, he could not ignore the demands of half the population of men without risking his position in the city. As she breathed a sigh of relief, she caught sight of a diminutive form scampering through the rushes that led up to her parent's property.

Aylee wished to go intercept her friend, but would not risk crossing the open field lest she encounter comrades of the men her father had defeated. A few minutes later, the hobbling Lady Willen panted up to Aylee, obviously fatigued from the exercise required to cross the distance. Before she would let the elderly woman speak, Aylee led her into the house and seated her at the table with a cup of tea.

“My dear, have you heard from your noble?”

“My noble?” Aylee coughed. “I am afraid I have not. What exactly have you need of?”

“It is not I who have need. It is your noble. There is a large company of soldiers converging upon him as we speak. “

“What do you mean?” Aylee begged, her heart clutching in her chest.

“Just that his helpful young servant, that Itchy, asked my assistance to move a large number of troops from one side of the marsh to the other while avoiding the woods. My men helped Itchy's troops, but soon after, I noticed within the woods the soldiers I mentioned before, and they shifted their formation, turning back toward Capigan.”

“Capigan? Are you sure you are not mistaken?” Aylee pressed. “Is it possible that the men were turning to help Jess?”

“They wore uniforms, a slight alteration from the Capigan seal, and I recognized some of them from the attack on the marsh almost three months ago now. The troops tonight spoke of their leader, a man who styled himself 'Lord Capigan,' though Capigan died months ago. Someone is masquerading as the Duke’s son, wearing uniforms meant to resemble the Duke’s seal.”

“Since you attended court, you would know the seal. But are you quite certain they intended Jess harm? I observed Jess among the troops of which you speak, and I have wondered if he has not colluded with some unknown force against the Duke. Perhaps he is the false Lord Capigan, or is colluding with Malchus who is masquerading thus.”

Lady Willen leveled an impatient look at Aylee which left Aylee feeling chastised. “Colluded with an unknown… Have you seen him collude with this unknown force?”

“Twice I have seen him collude with Malchus. Once, he stood among the troop headed by Malchus, a troop which soon burned and pillaged Glowigham.”

“Stood with – did you see your Jess burning and pillaging?”

“Well, no, I assumed it was a job he assigned the peasants. That it was beneath him.”

“Beneath him, indeed. Aylee, girl, your imagination has filled in far too many gaps with intrigue. But what of the other occasion? You said there was another.”

“The first time I encountered him – he stood in conference with Malchus Lorne.”

“And what exactly did they say in this conference?” Lady Willen demanded.

“Well,” Aylee stammered, “Malchus offered to join forces with Jess.”

Lady Willen shook her head. “Malchus offered, but you did not hear your Jess accept? You are mistaken, Miss Aylee-”

Frustrated, Aylee cut the woman off. “I am not mistaken. Both men wear the Wilmington seal – or very near it. I have seen it. And Jess left with a small troop of soldiers at midnight the night before Pontis burned. The next day, Pontis lay in ruins. Jess and Malchus planned it together.”

“All these inexact coincidences that you have imbued with the force of fact. You speak as you do not believe…”

“If I speak as I believe,” Aylee barked, “I would speak false, because I know that my beliefs are currently shackled by my wishes.” Until she had spoken the thoughts, she had not realized she possessed them. She wanted to be wrong about Jess. Even after all of the horrible things she had imagined, the deepest part of her had held onto a sliver of hope. When it pressed into her mind, it stabbed like a knife, and she found her breath hitching in her chest.

Lady Willen clucked her tongue. “You are so afraid to think your impressions true?”

“If they are true, Lady Willen, then I have erred egregiously. If they are true, then Jess is a wonderful person. If they are false – ”

“If they art false, then thou art in love with a criminal.”

“I – ” Aylee could think of nothing to say, and she stood to her feet. Finally, she leveled, “I must choose to believe him a criminal, regardless of my feelings, because if I am wrong, and I let myself accept his goodness, then I have wronged a good man in a way he will not forgive.”

“And yet he is good…”

“How can you so easily claim that, you who were not with him for these many weeks? He acted infamously toward me, if nothing else.”

“Infamous how?” Lady Willen demanded.

“It is untoward to speak of it,” Aylee insisted.

“As untoward to speak of it as to engage in it, Miss Aylee? Were you completely impassive in this “infamous” behavior?”

Despite her claims of self-righteousness, Aylee blushed, avoiding Lady Willen’s eyes.

“As I suspected,” the older woman cackled. “I am not a young, innocent maid you must protect from these things.”

“But propriety!”

“Propriety in the marsh is much less precise, Aylee girl. He kissed you.”

“Or I kissed him, I am uncertain.” Aylee wrinkled her nose, finally glancing shyly up at her companion.

“And yet he is infamous,” Lady Willen chuckled. “It sounds very much as if he deferred to you.”

“But,” she tried to protest, “my weakness and inexperience do not prove him honorable. If he is a liar, he would lie about anything. He pursued me. All the men in camp considered us almost in courtship. Yet he would not even tell me his name. Just his claim of honor. He could have been destitute, or disinherited, or infamous, or married. Until I could ascertain his identity, I could not commit myself.”

“And perhaps until he could reveal his identity to you, he also could not commit – not in good conscience. Suppose he, bound by secrecy and in a dangerous way, stumbled upon you and found himself attached. Unable to alleviate your distress or indulge himself, yet afraid of losing you.”

Aylee, he had complained. You are cruel.

If what Lady Willen said were true, and if any semblance of her wished proved fact, then Aylee had, in fact, shown far more cruelty than she could have imagined. The realization pulled tears from deep in her chest, and the mourning she had held back began to flow freely.

Lady Willen stood to place her hand on Aylee’s arm. “It does not follow, sweet girl, that you have acted in any way inappropriately by rejecting him. Instead, let it bring you hope that his character is not as lost as you had forced yourself to believe.

Leading Aylee to the table, Lady Willen seated her young friend before a cup of tea and patted her back as the tears cleansed Aylee’s weeks of distress. Finally, Lady Willen said goodnight, and Aylee forced herself to plod the short distance to her room.

As Aylee passed by the window where her father stood watch over the house, she nodded her acknowledgment to him before pressing through her door and throwing herself into bed. She had much to consider before she would find sleep in the night.

Before she completely faded, visions of Jess haunted her. Her mind's picture of him wavered between the desperate sadness that he had worn over their last three days together and the reproachful rejection that she had begun to imagine as she sat at her own table. Whichever mien he wore, the outcome did not change. She rode off alone to her parents' home, and he remained behind, unwilling to pursue her. Once, her mind carried down the road to an imaginary town where Jess fought a marauding band of men led by Malchus. When Malchus lunged and stabbed his sword directly through the heart of Jess, Aylee awoke with a start. At the last moment, the face of Malchus had changed to her own.