The caravan rolled to a slow stop. From his place in the final wagon, Volsten could hear the headmaster shouting orders.

Ugh, what is it this time? He brushed his hair out of his face. He reached for a boot (for wagon activities required them to be removed) but touched something soft and warm instead.

It’s damned dark in here! The wagon’s thin sheets would let generous amounts of sun in, so much so that one could see anything they wished to. Even read. It was obviously no longer day. He reached again, this time feeling his way over the sleeping woman next to him. He felt the leather, and felt near to it, finding the other. He pulled slowly over her body and began to lace them over his feet.

He felt himself. He still had his trousers, but they were unbuttoned. His tunic was gone, but he found it with a few touches to the side without the woman. Sliding it over his head was a trivial matter, even in darkness. His waist was empty. No sword, no small pouch of money. No belt. He sighed, then felt his way out of the wagon. He jumped onto the dirt path that Adamore believed to be a road. As the last, there was no one to see him in his disheveled aftermath. There was, however, a bridge, with a rather girthy river running beneath. There were many rivers in Adamore, but this was too large to be anything thing other than the Avinill.

It wasn’t quite dark outside. The sun was peeking just over the horizon, and the Moon was on its way to finally stamp it out, in all its blueish glory. “Not as bright as I hoped,” he said, his voice still quiet from sleep. Still, it would lighten the wagon’s insides enough to at least let him see where he placed his damned hands.

He threw open the wagon's entrance. Sully was still asleep, her body forming a pleasant shape beneath the blanket. For peasantry, she was quite well figured. He didn’t think daily meals consisting of potatoes and cabbage could give a person anything other than the distinct silhouette of a…well, a potato.

He hefted himself back in. The first thing he looked for was his gold. He found it in the corner of the wagon, nearer the front. He held it suspiciously in his hands. He knew the weight and feel of it. Sully’s people were dangerous, being poor and all. If Sully hadn’t robbed him, he couldn’t put it past one of her brothers or sisters-or her mother, father, uncles, aunts, grandmothers, grandfathers-from sneaking in and snatching his precious coins.

By Inera’s grace it was the same. He went to put it on his belt but kicked himself in remembrance. He found the belt on the side of the wagon, curled up like a snake. Strange way to be, belt. He didn’t remember much in the moments leading up to his enjoyment of Sully, but this was almost deliberate. He couldn’t have possibly cared that much.

He pulled the belt though his trousers and began to hunt for his sword. He searched on the edges of the wagon. He searched near the front, in the corners, beneath the supplies and food within it. He even kicked away Sully’s dingy garments. Nowhere was it to be found. He began to head back out of the wagon, when a thought occurred to him.

The blanket that covered Sully flew off to the side. There, clutched near her naked body, was his sword. What the…? She was practically hugging it! Her thighs pinched the tip of the blade, and her lips touched the hilt. Volsten grabbed it by the pommel, and with great ease he began to move it. He would need to be light. The last thing he wished was to have her blood on his sword.

As soon as his fingers touched, Sully’s eyes opened. They moved about slowly, clearly still recovering from a dream. Her eyes found Volsten and moved up and down his body. A small smile came across her lips. Then they focused on the sword, with Volsten’s hand precariously close to her. She kissed it, and began to sit up, taking the sword with her.

“Your sword, sir.” She offered the blade up on two hands, her black hair draping over her head as she bowed it.

Volsten sighed. “Yes, thank you,” he said as he slid the blade into its sheath. “I must ask...why did you sleep with my blade?”

Her head was still bowed. “I’ve never seen one before. It’s mighty pretty. And sharp! I…didn’t do anything with it. Just slept with it.”

That’s right. Vesti peasant. Few of the king’s men ever traveled that far south. Even if they did, Sully’s accent was remote Vesti. All she could have known was a small farm

“Well, be mindful. This sword is finely made. The hilt alone could buy your farm.”

Sully nodded. She stood and stretched in her nakedness. The knight within him screamed for him to chastise her. That knight held power at times, but it was not often, and certainly not after what he did to her earlier.

After a time, she did find her garments. Underwear, a poorly made blue tunic that stretched down to her knees, and a pair of worn boots. Its simplicity was alluring, but it reeked of countryside make-do. Bleh.

“Sully? Sully!” A small voice called from beyond the wagon cloth. It sounded like one of her brothers.

“Yes?” She answered, pulling on a boot.

The boy opened the covering. “Momma wants us to grab water from the river. Says we should try for fish too.” He noticed Volsten, and there was a shine in his eyes. “Sir Volsten," he said with a deeper voice. He bowed, and promptly smacked the edge of the wagon with his head. He bounced back up, a large red mark on his forehead. “M-Master Arwight wants to see ya.”

Volsten groaned. “Alright.” He buttoned up his trousers and followed Sully out. Two of her other brothers and a sister had already brought buckets and fishing poles with them. None of them had thought to bring something for their eldest sister. Sully disappeared around the wagon, muttering Vesti curses to herself.

Volsten watched the dirty band of children for a moment, their buckets and fishing poles in hand. They all stared at him with a mix of awe and cautiousness.

“Sir...” The girl started. She was tiny, practically all skin and bones. She wore a dirty pink dress that was a bit too big. It had to have been Sully’s at one point. “Are you going to marry her now?”

The horrified look on his face caused the girl to look at her feet. That didn’t stop one of the older boys from elbowing her square in the arm.

“Oh shut up!”

“But Momma said when a man and woman-“

“He’s a noble. They don’t gotta do it if they don’t want to! Daddy told us that when we were half your age.”

“Sully probably dreams about it every night.” Another of the brothers said. He mimicked putting a ring on his finger-or perhaps Volsten thought too innocently of him. The other boys burst into laughter. Even the girl smiled while rubbing her arm.

A moment later Sully came back, her own bucket and pole in hand. She looked forward to the river without ever acknowledging the others, her face red. “Come on!” She shouted halfway to the bank. “You idiots are wasting light! You don’t wanna be fishing when the moon’s too high!” The laughter stopped as the children hurried after their sister, their buckets swaying in their hands.

Volsten laughed to himself. I suppose it’s time I visit Arwight.

***

Arwight was not an elderly man, but his years were far beyond Volsten’s. His head was spotless and gleaming, and his ears were like dinner plates. He had a small nose that bent slightly, sitting between eyes too small for his face.

He was ugly. Quite ugly. Yet the carriage he sat in, eating roasted fish smothered in some sauce Volsten didn’t recognize, was beautiful. His suit had been made just right to his portly proportions. The golden chain necklaces around his neck were real and studded with true Westland emeriond. His…wife, Volsten presumed? She couldn’t have been much older than Volsten himself. Regardless, she was beautiful. Red lips, golden hair, and a red dress made of fine silk. A bloody fine woman. Her eyes fluttered playfully from him to her own plate. She hadn’t eaten much of it. Despite her eyes, she held onto Arwight’s arm tightly.

“Sir Volsten,” Arwight said between generous bites. The strength of the alchemical lights in the carriage’s corners made every detail of his eating plain as day. “How do you find my caravan?”

Volsten crossed his arms, ignoring the delicious smells that made his stomach roar at him. “It’s fine, I suppose. Dirty, but I knew this before I agreed.”

Arwight nodded, then pointed to a third, empty glass on the table. The woman reached down to her side and pulled up a purple bottle of wine, marked as Hasenfell White. Volsten was no expert on wines, but Hasenfell was an expensive one. The lady began to pour the wine into the glass. The pour was slow, very slow, to the point that Volsten knew she did it on purpose. He pulled his eyes away from the pleasing stream to look at her, for just a moment. She was focused on him, rather than the pouring. The carriage was filled with the sounds of wine and eating.

When she finished, she capped the bottle and placed it on the table’s edge. She slid the wine glass over to him with two red-nailed fingers, and went back to Arwight’s arm.

Volsten took the glass up with grace and lifted it for his first taste. He was not a wine person; he much preferred the brews from the various townships and cities within Adamore. But this…this was something else. The wine delighted his mouth and tickled his throat as it went down. It was the right mix of sweet and bitter.

Volsten lowered the glass and gave his head a shake. “My…this stuff is wonderful!”

The lady chuckled, and Arwight let out a hearty laugh. “I’m glad that you like it, Sir Volsten.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, Master Arwight,” Volsten said, lifting the wine glass once more, “who is this fine lady with you tonight?”

“Ah.” Arwight took his last bite of bread. “This is my mistress, Lady Malnae.”

Malnae let go of Arwight’s arm and thrust her hand almost offensively at Volsten. “A pleasure to meet a king’s knight, Sir Volsten.”

Volsten took her hand and pressed his lips lightly against it. She smelled sweet. “A pleasure to meet an angel walking our world, Lady Malnae.”

Malnae giggled like a young girl. “Elgin, you didn’t tell me that the king chose such handsome men as their knights. Why, I find it hard to even stare at him.”

“Calm yourself, Malnae. Such horrid wanting is unbecoming of a Lady.”

At this, Malnae’s smile waned, and she looked red-cheeked out of the window.

“I apologize, Sir Volsten. “She is still young and has not quite gotten control of herself.”

“I don’t mind,” Volsten sipped.

“Well, let us discuss what it is we must.” Arwight opened the door, and a nearby servant rushed into the carriage, taking Malnae and Arwight’s plates out with him.

After the door was closed, Arwight leaned back in his seat. He undid his buckle, and eventually his pants. He breathed a huge sigh of relief. “As you are aware, we will be in Ostic in just a few short days. That is when your duty ends, and you will be paid.”

Volsten raised a brow. He’d dealt with many merchants in the past, and they had a way of paying you less than anyone else. “Has anything changed in that regard?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Arwight said. “Your pay remains the same.”

“Then what is there to discuss?”

“Our destination afterwards is Isaldin. The route there is, while not dangerous, quite lengthy. Lady Malnae can attest, given that it’s home to her father’s estate.

Malnae simply nodded, her earrings glinting in the light.

“I know. I’ve been to Isaldin several times myself. I assume you wish for me to accompany the caravan further?”

Arwight nodded and opened his mouth to speak. Malnae spoke first. “Yes! Imagine how much it would help Elgin if word was spread that a King’s Knight was his protector!”

“Would you be quiet? But, yes, that is what I want. Your pay would increase should you choose to come along, of course.”

Volsten made a great show of his next drink of wine. The lady threw those words together without understanding them. “I am sorry to disappoint, but I am no King’s Knight. I am simply a knight.”

“Oh?” Malnae looked confused.

“Well, to give you a summary, the King’s Knights are a bit different from us lowly knights. The chances are we’ll all live our lives without ever seeing one. Or, if we do, we’ll probably not know it.”

“Oh.” Malnae nodded.

“As for you Master Arwight, I would gladly accept. How much would the increase be, exactly?”

“I thought of…hmm…” Arwight placed a hand on his chin. “Let’s say double, for 400 crowns.”

Volsten studied his wine glass. Though distorted, it allowed him to stare at Lady Malnae without being obvious. “Well, I can’t say no to 400 crowns. I’ll be with you for a bit longer, then.”

“Splendid!” Arwight smiled. “A refill, Lady Malnae.”

The wine bottle appeared again, and Malnae filled his cup until it nearly overflowed.

***

Volsten left before Malnae and Arwight could give him more wine. He enjoyed it, but the wine had already started to make him sleepy. He hated that feeling, and the paranoia of an impaired mind made him leave. He had nothing to fear from those two. Arwight was many times richer than he could ever hope to be, and as his mistress, Lady Malnae was beholden to all of it. He would not be robbed, or otherwise taken advantage of. Still, as a traveled man, one develops instincts. Being drunk made you a perfect target for opportunists. Thieves, street urchins, whores…there was little more thrilling to them than a drunk.

Volsten began to unbutton his tunic. He wasn’t as drunk as he could have been, but the affair was still somewhat slow and confusing. A misplaced finger here, not enough follow-through there. Damn it all! I should have leapt into the river when I first awoke! he thought as he undid his belt. No one could understand the difficulties a knight faced when undressing, less they were a knight themselves.

After a time, he was free of his clothing. He waded into the waters of the Avinill, which were…colder than he expected. There was much gnashing of teeth upon first touch of it, but he grew accustomed as time went on. The water was calm, but strong enough that he felt he could be properly clean. Well, as far as a river would allow his cleanliness to go. He was not as ignorant as the wild peoples, to think that a river was a magical source of pure water. He’d seen what cities did to them. This place was far off from any place worthy of being called a town, but still he did not delude himself.

As he waded deeper into the river, a thought occurred to him. Surely someone in the caravan had soap to spare. He first thought of Sully, but the memories of her brothers and sister gave him a fit of laughter. Sully was suitably clean, if not well shaven in certain places, but she didn’t smell of anything sweet. It was reasonable, or course, that a family such as hers would care not for the pleasantries of hygiene. Only the nobles were truly versed in those arts, and there were but two of them (other than himself) on the trip.

He groaned and threw his head up to the sky. He’d have to dress yet again. To smell sweet, surrounded by such people as this caravan holds, perhaps isn’t worth the effort. It wasn’t as if anyone would notice, and the water was just so relaxing…

There was laughter behind him. Light and girlish, though unmistakably high-class. Volsten had been facing the woods, keeping a wary eye on the darkness between the trees. He turned slowly in the water, and laid eyes upon a well-dressed, well-figured woman.

At first, he thought it to be Lady Malnae. But he found it hard to believe that a woman like her would ever-

“Lady Malnae!” Volsten said. His body tried to bow, but the water held him where he was. “I didn’t expect you to visit me. I’m not sure how you even knew where I went.”

“Oh, I simply asked!” She held a lantern, with light that was far too bright to be natural oil and wicker. Another alchemical light? It shone bright and cast its strange orange light into the water and onto him.

Volsten laughed. “I see. And why is that? I’m only bathing, my lady, which I’m sure is no sight for a proper lady to see.”

A blanket fell gingerly on the ground before Malnae’s feet. Apparently, there was a servant with her. Rarely did these types leave their chairs without one, he supposed. Malnae took a seat on it and plopped the light down next to her. “Well, I didn’t know you would be bathing. I just wanted to speak with you without Elgin telling me to shut up.”

“Ah.” Volsten rubbed wet hair from his face. “I don’t know what I’ve done to pique the interest of such a fine lady, but I’m glad of it.”

Malnae watched him in silence.

Volsten felt a twinge of annoyance. “You wanted to speak with me, Lady Malnae?”

“Oh, sorry,” she laughed. “I was going to let you finish bathing. It would be rude of me to question a man washing himself, wouldn’t it?”

There was a shift in Malnae’s tone. Subtle, and perhaps most men wouldn’t pick it up so easily, but he’d heard it countless times. Malnae was after more than talk.

“To speak of that,” Volsten said, “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Of course, Sir Volsten. Anything at all.”

“I assume you travel with soaps, yes?”

Malnae nodded. “Why, of course. What lady doesn’t wish to be clean at all times?”

“Is it possible for me to borrow one now? I didn’t have the forethought of bringing one. Stupid, I know.”

“Are you sure? They’re all quite sweet-smelling.”

Volsten could practically feel the wind from her eyes fluttering. “What of Arwight? Surely a man of his station has some to spare?”

“I don’t know. He smells quite nice, so I would think that he does.”

“Perfect!” Volsten said, his eyes turning to the rather stoic man standing beside her. “You there. Would you mind asking Arwight for some?”

The man stood in silence, making no indication that he heard him.

Malnae poked him in the thigh. “Oh, don’t be so rigid. Do as Sir Volsten says.”

The servant bowed low, then turned to walk up the hill towards the soft glow that was the caravan.

“You knooow…” Malnae said when he was out of earshot, “I’m not sure how you’ll get this soap once he brings it. Should I throw it to you?”

Volsten said nothing. It was best to let her come to the obvious conclusion on her own.

“Oh,” she continued, “but it’ll just be lost in the river!” She put a hand to her chin, in what Volsten knew to be a fake bout of hard thought. Then, she snapped. “Oh! You may have to come get it.”

Was this woman no more than a girl in a woman’s body? She played games with him like she still attended an academy. Not that he disliked her game, however. “What?” He said, now taking his turn to feign. “As I am, I’m not sure it’s appropriate.”

Her servant had returned. He handed something to Malnae, and she pointed to the caravan. His face broke its rocky façade for a moment, clearly taken aback at being sent away again.

“I could bring it to you, you know, but not dressed. I can’t risk wetting this beautiful dress that Elgin bought for me. Then I would be the inappropriate one.”

“Perhaps. But, given how beautiful you are, it would be very welcome.”

“I’d like to think so.” Malnae said, moving about on her blanket.

Over the course of their talk, Volsten had become quite soggy. “The soap, my lady.”

Malnae held the bar close to her. “I can’t throw that far. What if it lands in the river somewhere?”

Volsten sighed. Truly she intended for him to wade naked from the depths. “I suppose that leaves me no choice then.”

There was a moment of uneasiness as he walked towards Malnae. The light was bright and shone directly on him. He wasn’t ashamed of his body. It was quite the opposite. Years of training had honed it into a remarkable fitness, and he knew this. He did feel a certain air of helplessness. It was dark, he was wet, and the night’s chill had begun to take shape.

That feeling vanished when he finally stepped up from the river’s waters. Malnae was transfixed by him. Her lips had turned into a smile that grew wider with his every step. By the time he’d made his way to where she sat (a walk that felt much longer than it looked), her face was all teeth.

He held out his hand. Instead of placing the soap in it, as any person of reasonable mind would do, she just stared at him. Smiling. Like an idiot.

“My lady, the soap?”

She must have forgotten that he could speak, for she jolted awake. “Oh, yes.” Her hands came away from her chest for a moment, then snapped back as if they had been hit by a rod. “Take it from me.”

“What?” Volsten’s voice dropped all civility.

“I can’t just give it to you!”

“Why?”

“Arwight’s going to be wondering where I’ve gone soon,” she said, her eyes wandering over his body. “If you want this soap, you’d best be quick about it.”

Goddess, why have you made your kind so insufferable? “I can’t just grab you, Malnae. That’d be stupid!”

“I’m giving you permission to take it from me.”

The only response Volsten could muster was nude silence. Volsten reached for the soap. As he knew would happen, she pulled away from him, all smiles and giggly. Volsten had learned to contain his anger when necessary, to let it burn itself out inside of him before he could direct its fire elsewhere. Here, however, he found it a mighty struggle. It was as if this woman had no care in the world for the situation she put him in. Or, rather, she didn’t waste what precious few thoughts she had on it.

“My lady,” Volsten said, bringing back his knightly tone. “I don’t think you have much care for how this looks. I am standing naked, in the dark, in front of the mistress of the man who has hired me. I’m not one to turn down an unsatisfied noblewoman in her time of need, but you’re making it very, very hard to feel anything but annoyance right now.”

Malnae looked at him, dumbfounded. A pretty, stupid bird, she resembled. “You aren’t doing all you can to get this soap, Sir Volsten. I think you’re fond of revealing yourself to me.”

“I don’t make myself clear enough, I suppose. Why did you come find me?”

“That’s a lady’s business,” she said. She still smiled, but it had faded to nothing more than a slight curl of the lips.

“It involves me, however. That makes it a bit of my business, don’t you think?”

“I...I suppose.” Malnae’s eyes had finally stopped searching him for rare treasures and looked beyond him.

“Then, why did you-“

“If you are accusing me of anything improper, then you’d best stop talking!” Malnae burst out. “I was raised better than that.”

Volsten reached out again, and she withdrew yet again. “Yet you guard this soap as if you want me to wrestle you for it.”

Malnae looked from the soap to Volsten. After a long moment, she reached it out to him. It was slender and light blue and smelled not particularly sweet.

Volsten took it from her. “Thank you, Lady Malnae.”

He bowed low, and then turned to the river, where a man-shaped shadow fell over the water. When his foot first touched the water, he heard a young woman clearing her throat.

“Sir Volsten,” she said, with all the properness expected from a woman of standing, “after you have finished, would…would you like to accompany me tonight?”

Volsten dared not turn around to face her, unless his face revealed his intentions as all too obvious. “Of course, my lady. It would be a pleasure.”

***

Volsten marveled at how stupid he was at times. Every person made bad decisions; that was a fact as much as the sun would rise the next day. The difference between idiots and those with half a mind was the ability to learn from them, and to do better the next time. Volsten was beginning to think he was in the former group.

It didn’t occur to him until he lay sweaty next to a beautifully naked Malnae. She had proved to be an awkward woman, but he couldn’t fault her too much for that. He had doubts that Arwight, as round as he was, could ever manage to test her in that area. Nor, perhaps, did he want to. If she simply laid there and let him be about his business, it would probably be enough for him. Volsten, however, expected some level of reciprocation from his partners. Awkward as she was, Malnae was happy to try. And, in the end, it was enjoyable. For him certainly, and with the contentment on Malnae’s face, for her as well.

That contentment vanished when one of her servants came down to fetch her. By that time Volsten had already mostly dressed. Malnae, for goddess knows why, was satisfied to lay there in her bare glory.

Volsten noticed the man standing there, eyes wide, staring at his indecent lady. Volsten was every bit as shocked and surprised as Malnae, but he didn’t show it. “Mistress…” he finally said, and that did quite the number on Malnae’s mind. She went from relaxed satisfaction to standing fury in what had to be only a moment.

She hurled words at the man, commands to be quiet, to not tell Arwight-or anyone else for that matter-of what he saw. All the while struggling back into her undergarments. The servant was busy deciding whether to look at Malnae, the ground, or Volsten. It might have been an easy decision had Malnae been decently dressed.

Volsten had simply walked off, leaving the man alone with his irate lady.

Now he sat in Sully’s wagon, waiting for Arwight or one of his men to throw back the flaps and demand answers from him. They’d get nothing, of course. He gained no advantage from admitting that he’d done what he was accused of. Arwight was amicable enough, but men like that took even the tiniest of disrespect as a wholesale assault on their pride. Arwight was likely no different.

The night drifted on, and none came. Whenever the flaps were thrown back, it was either Sully or one of her numerous siblings come to fetch something they needed. It was mostly Sully and the eldest of her younger brothers, although her sister made the occasional appearance. He hadn’t a clue what they were doing until he began to smell something wondrous. Not long after, the flap opened again and revealed a Sully carrying two white plates, laden with food, and an odd glow on her hip.

She placed the two plates on the wagon floor and pulled herself up. “One for you, sir,” She said, reaching one of the plates over to him. After he took it, she reached down to her hip and removed whatever glowed from beneath her tunic. Unsurprisingly, another alchemical light. This one was a small orb, no doubt made from cheap enough materials to be given to someone like Sully. She marveled at it for a moment, then placed it between them.

The thing was certainly bright enough and gave the wagon a strange glow that only alchemy could. With its help, Volsten examined his plate. Cooked fish drowned in the same deep red sauce that Arwight had enjoyed earlier.

Sully stared at him from the other side of the light. She was no Malnae. Her face was rough and showed the usual signs of wear that a peasant’s life could bring a young woman, but there was something welcoming and pleasant about it.

“Fish is all we got,” she said as she began to eat. “Mr. Arwight is a good man, if you ask me. He was gonna feed us, you know, but Momma didn’t want us to eat anything we didn’t catch if we could help it. So, he cooked our fish!

Volsten found that there was a fork on his plate. Strange then that Sully used her hands. “A good and very rich man,” Volsten said as he himself took a bite of fish. Warm and delicious trout complimented by the creaminess of sauce. He hadn’t realized how ravenous he was until he tasted it. It occurred to him that this was likely the best meal that Sully or her siblings had ever eaten.

“Rich enough to take these wagons all the way to Tregar. Goddess! I don’t know what I’d do with that sort of money. Great dowry, I think.”

Volsten sighed. These people spoke of marriage as if it was all that mattered. “Really? All of that money, enough to make you as powerful as the king and church will allow, and you wish to give it to a husband?”

“I don’t know, sir. I can’t think of anything else to do with it.”

“Well, don’t just marry it off to some hapless fool, first off. You could buy a small estate in any of the cities with that much money and set yourself up as a minor lady.”

Sully’s stare had changed from girlish infatuation to that of a student. “Me? A Lady?” she spoke softly.

“Yes, you. A Lady,” Volsten said, placing his empty plate on the floor. Sully still held hers, though she did little more than lap at sauce-covered fingers. “To be honest with you, there’s nothing particularly special about most of them. They just happened to come from the right stomach.”

“I’ve never met one. Momma talks about them sometimes, about how they dress and dance all night. She talked about them like they were the goddess’s own daughters.”

“So?” Volsten stretched out on the wagon floor, using his arms as pillows. “Buy a pretty gown and learn to dance. Then you too can be a daughter of the divine.”

There was a long silence broken by slurping noises. Clearly Sully enjoyed the sauce a great deal. After a time, she crawled up next to him, and rested her head on his chest. “You’ll teach me to dance, then? After we leave Ostic?”

Amazing that she truly believed him. Apparently, the idea of galivanting with a knight was so appealing, so alluring to a woman like her that she latched onto the idea without a second thought. Strange that she would so readily abandon her family. Not that Volsten was disapproving of her gullibility, considering that it gained him a wagon to sleep in.

Though, now that he thought about it, might it have been better to just ask? He didn’t necessarily need to use Sully in such a way; his knighthood would have been enough to force a ‘yes’ from her parents without the need of their daughter. The answer was quite obvious to him: It would have been terribly boring. This, he thought, is far more fun.

“I’ll have to ask, Sully. Why are you so ready to leave your family?”

He felt Sully’s head lift from his chest. “Don’t know. I want to see a lot of stuff. Never been away from our farm until now.”

“Yes, but you have brothers and a sister. Your parents are nearing old age. A healthy young woman such as yourself leaving would be disastrous for them.”

“They can take of themselves!” Sully said. This was the first she had been anything less than capitulatory to him. “Branin is only a few years younger than me, but you know how boys are. He’s already stronger than me.”

“Strength of body isn’t all there is to caretaking.”

“He can cook, too,” Sully said. “And clean. They don’t wan-need me.” Only now did Volsten realize that she held his arm, for her grip tightened. “You…you don’t want me to go with you?”

Volsten sighed. He didn’t really care enough to continue. “I said nothing of the sort.”

Her hands relaxed their grip. “I won’t tell them I’m leaving, either. They’re gonna wake up and I’ll be gone. The next time they see me I’ll be a lady in a gown. They won’t even believe it’s me!”

She will come to her senses eventually. He thought it quite unlikely that she would leave her family, no matter how dreamily she spoke of it. The weight of Sully’s head on his chest was comforting, and his hunger was at bay for now. It was all too easy to fall into sleep.

***

Volsten awoke to a dim wagon. Sully was gone, as she always was. He’d never seen someone awake so early of their own will. The Academy had forced them up before the sun, but that was forced. The habit was dropped as soon as he left the place. Perhaps that was the luxury of having no one to care for. He didn’t have to get up before the sun itself to cook and clean and whatever else had to be done.

Volsten did a quick check of himself and found all where it should be. Weeks had gone by and not a single copper piece had been taken from him, but that didn’t lessen his cautiousness.

His hands went over his belt again, and as realization hit him, he looked. There was no golden pommel, no blackened hilt and sheath. There was no sword. His search of the wagon did nothing to reveal it, and he could only think that Sully once again had to something to do with it. She had gotten so familiar with him that she felt comfortable enough to take it with her outside of the wagon.

This didn’t spark anger as much as it did annoyance.

Volsten stepped from the wagon into what had to be the brightest of mornings. The sky was a deep blue with the sun as its sole occupier. A brilliant occupier it was, as Volsten’s hand nearly slapped him in defense of his eyes. The caravan hadn’t moved at all but based on the absolute racket being made it wasn’t far from it. The hustle of people moving things, the shouts of wagon drivers yelling at those who did not move fast enough.

There was a particular yell that drew his interest. The wagons sat on a road that sat on top of a somewhat sloping area of land. Volsten peered down this slope, and near the blue waters of the Avinill stood Sully. In the Avinill were her siblings, fishing poles in hand.

Sully was red-faced shouting at them, her fists clenched. They paid little attention to her. The three boys-the tall one must have been Brinnin-were smiling and casting away. Her sister seemed a little less sure of things, but she was happy nonetheless.

He couldn’t understand a thing Sully was shouting. He looked on and around her. All he could see was her own fishing pole laying beside her, and a bucket for the fish they were scaring away.

Volsten cursed to himself. If not Sully, then he was at a loss. He did take his sword off when he slept, but he always kept it nearby. Volsten thought back for a moment. He didn’t remember placing his sword anywhere, except for-

“The damned river!” Volsten said aloud. Malnae’s servant had caused him to rush, and in that he must have forgotten it. He turned in the other direction from Sully and made his way down.

He didn’t have to look very hard. The black of the sheath stood out from the green of the grass, and the pommel shined with the sun’s light. Volsten smiled at the sight of it and looped the fastener through his belt. He was of a mind to turn around and head back to the caravan, but something caught his eye. Just beyond where he’d found his sword, there was a sea of much taller grass. A wonder why Malnae didn’t set her blanket there instead of the short grass next to it, but he’d come to know that Malnae was not all that bright. Within in that grass was a glimmer of light, stronger by far than the little shine that his sword’s pommel had made.

Volsten stood there for a moment, puzzled. It could be that he wasn’t the only one who lost something. Judging by the strength of its shine, it had to be something quite expensive as well. He stepped through the grass, and as he came closer to the thing, he noticed certain…oddities. In fact, something entirely different was taking shape. He stopped at times to peer more closely. The more he did, the surer he became that this was far more than some jewel lost by the river.

What he saw was impossible, however. Those could not have been wings that he saw, nor could he believe those to be horns atop a head. And certainly, there was no tail coiled gingerly around a small body.

There was simply no way that this was a dragon.