When Diago woke up, the sun’s rays were touching his eyes through the window. He threw down the blanket and shivered; even if it was early summer, the mornings in the Forest were fresh. He liked to sleep both with the window open and with the stove heated. The contrast between the freshness of the air and the stove's heat was one of his greatest pleasures.

He put some wood on the embers to rekindle the fire, and soon, the flames were drumming on the iron. Taking some water from a bucket, he put a kettle on the stove. Undressing to his waist, he washed with a big loaf of house soap, then he took a bit of toothpaste from a small tin can and washed his teeth carefully with a badger hair toothbrush. In the end, he grinned in a small mirror, satisfied. Now it was time for shaving; he prepared the foam in a small bowl and took his time to shave, careful not to hurt himself. Like all his weapons, his razor was razor-sharp as well. Profession obliges. He washed the remaining foam, wiped his face on a towel, cleaned the razor and gave it a few strop hits, then threw the used water from the tin basin through the window, in the grass behind the lodge.

No noise could be heard from upstairs. He dressed in hiking clothes and went up the stairs, pushing the hatch slowly. In the bed, only one twin, sleeping; the other was nowhere to be seen. The dog felt him and rushed to the stairs, wailing silently; he needed out. He took the dog down on his back and pulled back the hatch. When he tried to open the door and let the dog out, the doorknob came out from its socket and the door opened by itself.

Outside, the second twin was already awake, tinkering on a small crossbow.

“Sorry for the doorknob,” she said. “I copied the safety mechanism; it's quite useful for a weapon too. I’ll put it all back together; I’m almost done.”

“And which one are you?” asked Diago, frowning, upset that the girl had been able to sneak out without him feeling anything. “You got up very early, I see.”

“I’m Feyra. We went to sleep very early; we were broken. That afternoon nap took all night, so when I wake up, it was very early. The sun wasn’t up yet, but in my head was a lot of daylight. I decided to work on this…”

With the last words, she pushed a button. Suddenly, the small crossbow put itself together, ready to shoot.

“Impressive!” said Diago.

“Isn’t it? It has a complex wheel and cam system, and though tiny, it packs a lot of punch. Has no recoil, as it’s a reverse crossbow. It automatically recharges as long it has its bolt magazine full. Resorts. I think it’s precise up to fifty yards.”

“Then I’ll leave my own crossbow home. It’s huge and slow; this is much better.”

Feyra’s brow saddened.

“Do we have to leave?” she asked. “Maybe… maybe he is still on the way…”

“I’ll leave a note if you want, but we cannot stay longer. Chances are he’s a prisoner and had already talked, or will talk eventually.”

“Hey, you proletarians! Keep your voices down; you woke me up!”

From a window upstairs, the curly head of Heyra was taunting them.

“Oh, your royal highness, please descend your graceful ass down here and bless the working class with your presence!” replied her sister.

“I will, dear peasant!”

Letting them chat together about the crossbow and various things, Diago went inside, put a handful of aromatic flowers in the boiling water, poured the tea in cups to cool down, then put some more water on the fire, heating it just a little.

“I warmed some water If you want to wash up. You have some towels in the closet; they are clean. I’ll go up to let you have some privacy.”

One upstairs, he made the bed, just to kill time, then sat on the edge of the bed, sighing. The scent the princesses had left in the sheets awakened memories he didn’t want to be awakened.

“We’re ready!” he heard.

They changed places, the girls dressing in the attic while he prepared omelet and boar ham.

Even when provided with simple plain clothes, girls take a lot of time dressing, so he had time to arrange the table outside and put some food in the dog’s tray. He noticed that before going up, Feyra took the time to put the door mechanism back in his place.

“Bon Appetit!” he said when the girls came down and sat at the table. “As soon as we finish eating, we’ll pack and go.”

He omitted to mention the spy because he didn’t want them to be sad and cry again.

“This tea is fabulous!” appreciated Heyra.

“Lemongrass, apple, and rosebuds,” he detailed the ingredients.

The food was as delicious as the tea, the sun shined brightly over the meadow, and all-around was the peaceful silence of the forest, a silence composed of thousands of little noises: birds, insects, the slow wind. All was so beautiful that the princesses ate slowly, trying to prolong the pleasant moments.

Suddenly, not very far away, in the Forest, a neigh resounded. The girls make a gesture to jump up, but the duelist calmed them.

“It’s my horse, don’t worry. He’s a better guard than Monster, here - he showed the dog - and a good judge of character. A neigh means we have guests, not hostiles. Hostiles would be dead by now. He’s a mean horse.”

In less than a minute, on the west side of the meadow, two silhouettes appeared. A small man, carrying on his back someone they knew.

“Istainn!” the girls exclaimed and hurried to meet the two.

“Put me down!” asked the spy, regretting his words immediately. As soon as he did get down, the girls hugged him so strong that the pain in the wounds came back, and he felt terribly embarrassed by his perspiration smell and his tattered clothes.

“Goodness! Thank Providence you’re alive!” exclaimed Feyra, feeling and touching him everywhere: on his face, pulling up and down his eyelids, on the shoulders, moving his arm up and down. When she kneeled and tried to feel his ankle, the one revealed by his torn pants, he screamed and jumped behind Lau.

“Iiii! Please stop! Your highness, I’m not decent.”

“Goodness!” exclaimed Feyra, upset. “Don’t be so shy, you know I’ve studied medicine too, yes? Only the theory, but still, have seen my part of drawings with naked men. That said, you look good; all these things will heal in a few days.”

“And who’s the gentleman here?” ask Diago. He would have said barbarian if the men would have been alone, but the presence of the princesses obliged him to more politeness.

“He’s Lau, a friend. I’ll explain it all, just let me wash a little and eat something, please!”

Diago and Lau helped him use the shower in the back of the lodge. The duelist brought him a set of hunting clothes left behind by the Ambassador on a previous visit, and they fitted him perfectly. The spy chose to burn his old clothes in the stove after carefully moving the wallet into the new coat.

The duelist had no more eggs to make an omelet, but still plenty of ham, cheese, and bread.

“Tea nice!” complimented Lau. “Tasty and medicim both. Grasslemon, apple, and?”

“Rosebuds,” replied Diago, quite proud of the compliment.

After some omelet and tea, Istaìnn felt well enough to tell his story. He was embarrassed by the magic part, it still felt like a bad dream, yet Lau and his funny syntax helped him offer an accurate image of what happened. Recounting the events, his body started shaking. The fear he had vanquished in the face of peril was now able to manifest.

“Goodness! I can only imagine how terrifying was that monster!” said Heyra, taking him by his left hand.

“I don’t know what to say!” said Feyra, putting a hand around his shoulders. “I hope we will be good queens one day. Good enough to make you as proud of us as we are proud of you today.”

And that made him cry uncontrollably. The contrast between the horror he had felt the day before and the warmth of their affection was just too much. But as he cried and cried, something stirred in him. He began to shake; he felt at first hot, then cold, then a bluish wave of energy bloomed all over his skin, disappearing in a blink. His pains were gone, his skin was as smooth as a baby’s, no scratch was visible anymore, and he could only move his shoulder and ankle with slight discomfort.

The princesses looked at him with amazement.

“You are a man of many talents, Mister Quevedo,” said Diago.

“No. no, it was only the wind,” he replied with an absurdity. “I swear on my heart, I have no idea how do I do this.”

“Well, we’ll figure out later; for now, I fear we must prepare and leave. Your fight in the Old City will be noticed. Our enemies will conclude that we are in the Forest, and they’ll come after us.”

“I agree,” replied the spy. “We must flee to d’Ornia.”

An hour and a half later, Diago had finished the baggage. The princesses, Istainn and Lau, had few or almost no belongings, but he didn’t travel light, it seemed. He had five big packs with weapons, kettles and tableware, food, clothes, and camping gear.

Looking with amazement at the packs, the westerner asked with incredulity.

“You this carry to d’Ornia?”

“No, my friend,” replied the duelist, amused. “Of course not. I have two horses.”

“Horses?” Lau’s face went glad, then sad. “Yes, one neighed when we arrive, Lau remembers. I had a horse, mare nice, but not could go back for her…”

Diago took two fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly. Two neighs replied, and in a short time, two horses appeared in the clearing. One was a fast and stocky brown burden horse, the other a colossal war-stead, black, imposing, frightening, his mane a dirty orange color.

“Horse small, very good, carry much and nice character, “ affirmed Lau. “Horse big is killer, slow as a snail but evil, pure evil.”

“Indeed,” agreed Diago. “He killed a bear not long ago, in one stroke with his hooves. Don’t go near him without me. But as mean as he looks, we can count on him to guard us with his life.”

Half an hour later, they started their journey. Not before Diago sent a flying messenger bird to the Ambassador, saying just two words: We’re leaving.

The war stead opened the way. Diago rode on it. Next, on the small horse, all the packages safe the weapons and Istaìnn, despite his protests. He was forced by the girls to ride until he was fully healed. The girls were walking on both sides of the horse, in the rear-guard, Lau. Monster, the dog, was frolicking around, playing, and trying to lick the faces of those on foot, especially Lau, who was short and easy to reach. After the westerner had established twice some harsh contact between his boot and the dog’s butt, Monster let him in peace and concentrated on the princesses; the twins were thrilled to play with him.

“I wonder,” asked Heyra. “If the dog is called Monster, what is your steed name, Diago? Terror? Fear? Blight?”

“Oh, nothing so dramatic,” replied the duelist. “I named the dog Monster just for the dissuasive aspect. You know, if some rednecks from whatever village I pass by want a fight, I just call: Monster, and seeing he’s so big, they usually fly. Saves me from killing them; I’m a peaceful guy. The stead, on the other hand, is named after the color of his hair. Pumpkin.”

The laughs of the girls resounded for long minutes, fading only when they entered the depths of the Forest.