The first thing I did once returning to the Treedwellers' dwelling was to arrange a bath for Anna. A large pot was produced, and we filled it with hot water. The tall Barkskins helped me, and we dunked Anna, arms flailing and screaming and kicking, into the pot as she was; boots, armor, shirt and trousers and all. Her face was red from the indignation of being treated such, and she thrashed around in the pot, splashing. Soon the bear fat detached from her, and floated on the surface, and formed a smelly layer so thick I could scoop with my hand, and the semi-gelatinous grease hardened to chunks of flaky cake.

"I could find some use for this," said Marion and called her friends over. Barkskinned women gathered with buckets and scooped up the yellowish-white fat, all the while trying to avoid meeting Anna's glaring eyes. Unfortunately, our soap bar was in my travel sack that I had left outside the forest with Slinky, so I asked Marion if she had something.

"Erm, we do make soaps, yes, but I do not think it's good for her. Ours are made for Barkskins, you see?"

"Never mind, then."

In the meantime, the Comte's men were celebrating with the Treedwellers, laughing and drinking in front of the severed head of Utaroque. One man stood next to the bear head and was giving a detailed and exaggerated account of our fight in a very animated fashion. The Barkskins and the village folks gathered around and listened and awed and winced and cheered.

"There he is! The brave Sieur Henry!" the man pointed, and the good Sieur waved his hand to the cheering crowd, his face blushing. Marion's papi went over and patted him on the shoulder.

"Humen. Strong! "

Barrels of meads were rolled into the clearing, and fires and pots and grills were being set. Judging by how the Comte was chugging copious amounts of alcohol that were offered to him, it looked like we were not going to leave this place any time soon. Marion and I stood side by side and watched the folks celebrating the end of Utaroque's reign, but our peace was rudely invaded by a sudden flood of hot water that soaked my trousers and Marion's robe. We yelped and jumped and turned around; in her attempt to climb out of the pot, Anna had hoisted herself onto the edge, which led to the whole thing being tipped over. Seeing Anna crawl out of the side-turned pot, Marion let out hiccups of laughter and took the girl's hand in hers. She took Anna away to someplace and soon came back with my grumbling girl in tow. Anna came back having changed into a dry olive-green robe that was too large for her, most likely one of Marion's.

Words must have traveled far and fast. In the evening, many delegations from other Treedwelling tribes came to confirm the death of Utaroque, and they were delighted to find the beast's severed head in the display. More drinks and foods were brought out in celebration, and the Comte's man was invited to narrate the story once again. This time, though, others joined him, and we had a full play, albeit greatly exaggerated, depicting the heroic battle against the terror that had reigned across the forest for years. We cheered and clapped at the part where Sieur Henry stepped up. We jumped and shrieked in delight as Anna thrust her sword into Utaroque's ear. We doubled down and laughed at the scene where Anna was found wedged in the bear's belly. The Barkskins of the other tribes enviously congratulated the proud Comte for having such brave warriors among his men.

After the play, more drinks were brought out, and I had a few cups diluted with hot water. Night came, and Anna dozed off, her head on my shoulder. We were sitting side by side near a fire, and across the burning logs, Marion sat next to her papi. They did not say much to each other, but it was obvious that they had made up. I thought our eyes met; I could never tell what with her blindfold. Marion smiled at me and nodded. Overall it had been a good day.

###

The next day everyone was hungover, so we just lazed around. It was one more day after that we bid our farewell and left the thick woods. The Barkskins accompanied us to the edge of the forest, where our horses and carts were waiting. They brought baskets filled with provisions and loaded up onto our carts.

"Marion. Feed her well," papi said. He turned around and waved his hand. Three tall Barkskinned men stepped up. They were wearing leather armors and carried bows and hatchets.

"These. My best warriors," papi explained to the Comte, "not as strong as yours. But still good. They go with Marion. Yes?"

The Comte nodded to the three men in greeting.

"Welcome to my merry band. Please do feel at home."

They bowed in return and then went back to fetch their rides. Shortly after, they reemerged from the forest, guiding four massive elks with impressive antlers. We gasped at the sight of them; I personally had never seen such large ones. Marion was riding on the smallest, but even that was already taller than Anna's Lilly. These beasts with their large eyes and elegant neck-beards were magnificent creatures.

"I am ready," Marion said and patted on a large travel sack she had straddled on the back of her elk. She got off and hugged her papi. The Treedweller and his precious granddaughter chatted in their language. I could not understand a single word, but they were obviously bidding farewell and wishing for a safe journey and good health. I thought I saw a bead of teardrop rolling down the old Barkskin's cheek.

Beside us was another party getting ready to go. It was comprised of strong mothers of the village and Treedweller escorts armed with bows and hatchets; they were to visit their old home and properly bury the dead. I did not even dare to imagine what kind of emotions they would go through doing that. I sincerely wished all the best for them. Despite the grim nature of what they were about to go through, I felt a growing hope. After the ordeal, thanks to Marion's unique position as a half-human and a half-Barkskin, a new friendship had been forged between the 'humen' villagers and the Treedwellers, which I hoped would last long. It surely was a turning point in the lives of both groups.

Having turned our carts around and formed in marching columns, we were all set and ready to go. For the last time, the Comte graciously bowed to Marion's old papi.

"In good faith, I leave my folks in your care."

The Treedweller bowed in return.

"Same. Marion, in your care."

The Comte got on his horse, and trotted to the foremost position of our band of knights and soldiers and Barkskins and a witch. Oh, yeah, and a goddess. A rider positioned himself diagonally behind his lord and proudly raised the banner of Comte d'Armas high. Seeing that, I rummaged through my sack, took out, and assembled the foldable pole. I, too, raised the La Rose's banner, to which Anna gave me a big smile and thumbs up. Soon we set off towards southwest. To Bourg.

###

We marched south-westward. The stream that we had followed days before bent westward at some point in its course to the south. In the process, the water had widened and formed a river joined by other small streams and such, now running southwest. Soon we found ourselves once again traveling along the water.

Nothing eventful happened and we rode and walked mainly in silence. I wanted to talk about the elks, but the Treedwellers rode far back with Marion. Besides, Anna was still terrified of that woman, which I thought was quite an ungrateful attitude, given how her bottom was now doing better. But in Anna's defense, up to now every time Marion got involved, Anna had ended up being forcibly stripped, and her arse fondled. Her reason could be justified to some degree.

We found a cold remain of a campfire along the river. Baron Hugo by now had at least a three-day lead on us, and by the time we reached Bourg, he would be sitting comfortably, and safely, in his den.

"We must face the fact, My Lord," I heard Victor talking to the Comte, "we have no jurisdiction here. Neither in Bourg."

"Justice knows no boundaries, for it is universal."

"So are His Majesty's words. Your Lordship's authority to deliver justice is bound to Armas, as per the Royal blessing and guarantee."

The Comte thought about it for a while. He sighed.

"For now, let us focus on reaching Bourg and apprehending Baron Hugo. If it comes to that, I shall drag the swine all the way to the Royal Court and let him be judged there."

We stopped for the evening. Fires were lit, and we had hearty stew, hot and with lots of vegetables and herbs, which enriched the flavor and gave thick texture. Meads and ales were kept to the minimum level and the general lack of noise contrasted with the celebratory nights before. After the meal, I gave Anna a small rose-scented soap bar and told her to go down the river.

'But I am tired,' she protested.

"Please. You smell really bad."

After much arguing, we settled on me going down with her to keep my eyes on her. We walked some distance away from the men for her privacy. I made a small fire behind a convenient rock as to block out the light from illuminating Anna bathing in the river. I had brought my travel sack with me and with it sat on the riverbank. It had become dark fast, but I could still see the shadow of Anna stripping and getting in the water. She yelped for the water was cold. Close to the bank, the water was rather shallow and came only up to her knee level. Her silhouette bent down and began to splash water on her head. I moved my eyes and watched the eastern sky. North-east, to be exact. It was already black, and the moon had come up early, hanging slightly above the horizon.

Soon I found what I was looking for. A small pink light was slowly rising in the distant sky. It eventually stopped high in the air, waiting. I went through stuff in my sack and took out a folded object of the light frame and tinted paper. It was a small foldable floating lantern, of rectangular shape, with a small candle on an equally small metallic dish suspended below the lantern by four thin yet firm metallic wires attached to the bottom frame. Each plane of the construct, except for the base, was covered by a sheet of pink-tinted paper. I had several such lanterns with different colors, but chose pink for today as a response to my counterpart's pink; a messenger needed my bearing.

The top sheet had a mid-sized hole to vent the heat and allow the circulation of the air. Beneath the metallic dish was a small hook, and to this, I tied a strand of strong string that wound fat on a small hand winch. All ready and set, I used a twig of wood to light the lantern's candle and waited. Soon the lantern floated and slowly rose to the sky, trailing the string unwound from the winch. Having let it reach a sufficient altitude, I locked the winch, and the lantern now loitered high in the air.

Several minutes later, another pink light rose in the distance. It stopped by the first lantern, and from this far, the two light sources merged as if one. It was an affirmation; they have their eyes on me now. I did the same. I readied another lantern and hooked it to the string that trailed taut down from the sky. Guided by the string, my second lantern floated up and came to a stop close to the first one; I see you, too.

Now with my general direction confirmed, the distant pink light began to descend, and I reeled my winch, too. Before leaving the Roseland, I had asked the men of Les Postiers to train me of this communication arrangement. They told me of the danger of causing a wildfire and advised it was for the best to just reel the lanterns back down. I kept to what they had taught me, and that was what I and my counterpart in the distance were doing now.

I blew the candles out and folded the lanterns and put them back in the sack. It was only then that I noticed Anna had not come back. I lit a torch and went closer to the water. It did not take long to find Anna. She was…

"Anna, I told you to wash, not swim!"

She waved.

"Get out now! You will catch a cold!"

By the time I got back from my travel sack with blankets, she was already out. I helped her put on her trousers and shirt. She was shivering badly from the cold as she sat down and put on her boots. I draped the blanket around her and lowered myself on her, sniffing her head. Good, she had washed herself alright. There was the fresh and still wet sweet fragrance of the rose soap, and her hair felt soft and flowed to the touch.

"Go sit by the fire. It should warm you up."

Anna did as told. She sat close to the fire, shivering and her teeth clattering. I returned to the water with the soap bar; now it was my turn to wash. I stripped down and tested the water with my toe. It was freezing cold. 'That idiot girl!' I thought. She swam in this? I gritted my teeth and bobbed up and down, pumping myself up and building up the courage to get in the cold water. I heard running footsteps behind me, and two icy hands pushed hard on my bareback. I fell in the freezing water and thrashed around and, in shock, gasped for air. The rock could not block all the light from the fire, and the flickering light illuminated her from behind and outlined her shape. Anna stood there on the riverbank, the blanket draped around her shoulders. She rolled her feet and giggled in delight. I was so mad, I yelled at her.

###

It was the evening the next day. We were preparing a meal, hot stew with vegetables, and a trace of meat when Marion casually warned us.

"I have a new set of eyes approaching fast from our behind," she said, pointing to the north-east. "It's a horse, and it… yes, it sees us now."

All heads turned that way, and we squinted our eyes, scanning the evening horizon. A tiny speck of horse was heading towards us. As it came closer, we could see better and spotted a man was riding on it.

"Must be one of my fellows. I have been expecting," I told the men not to be alarmed. They shrugged and returned to making fires and setting up pots. Several curious ones milled about, wanting to see what the deal was about. Anna came to my side, and together we waited for the rider.

I was satisfied to see the man rode fast, as expected of a member of Les Postiers, a special group of men and women. It was a service organization that I had designed and spawned some years ago. But the smile on my face eroded as the man came closer, and I could identify who it was. Anna, on the other hand, clapped her hands in excitement upon recognizing the rider.

The Postier reined in his horse to a stop before us. It was a beautiful brown stallion, but the trip must have been quite taxing. Its nostrils flared wildly, and the mouth that huffed was frothing white. Steam rose from its hot tensed muscle and on its back sat Jehan, a twenty-something-year-old hunter from the north whom Anna and I were friends with since childhood. Jehan was a proud member of Les Postiers, who was rumored to have once ridden through harpy filled blizzard and weaved through the stomping legs of stone giants to deliver a message. The Postiers were expected to get to places no matter what, and Jehan more than excelled in that field.

He wore a wide-brimmed leather hat on his handsome head and a dark fur-lined coat with many pockets. Behind him, on horseback, was a small travel sack and a tightly rolled bedroll, standard package for a Postier, carrying just enough to survive all alone in the wild for a week. A brown leather satchel hung across his chest, and on the flap cover, there was the proud patch of Les Postiers embroidered; a red rose and a sheet of white paper rolled into a scroll. The symbol of Les Postiers also served as a warning. If you fucked with a Postier, you were fucking with the Baron.

Jehan jumped off the horse and bowed before Anna, who returned the greeting with a hug. He then turned to face me.

"Majordome-"

"Jehan, what are you doing here?" I interrupted him. "What about your northern post?"

"I am now assigned to oversee the dedicated route between the young Lady and the Baroness."

"Reassigned? Who pulled you out of the north? On whose authority?"

I was furious. This guy was responsible for our messaging network and his junior Postiers there in the north; the mountain range. And he was good. Very good. I knew this because I put him there. Who the heck pulled him out?

"Erm… it was the Baroness herself."

"Ah…"

It then dawned on me. Yes, the Baroness would, of course, want reliable means to keep in touch with her daughter and me. Who else would be better suited for the job than Jehan, one of our best Master Postiers in the Roseland?

"Seigneur Montclam had told us you were heading to Forez," Jehan went on, "but then we lost your trail some days ago."

"Ah, yes, sorry about that. We went into the forest. Couldn't see your call until last night."

'We hunted a bear!' Anna signed, and I dutifully translated. I took some minutes telling our adventure in the forest and about the Treedwellers. Jehan was impressed, and he eyed the three Barkskin warriors with a curious expression.

"Anyway," he pulled out several envelops from his satchel. One of them was a sealed letter from Her Ladyship the Baroness addressed to Anna. Others were letters and notes from my colleagues of the Council, for my eyes. Anna took her letter and went squatting down by the fire to read what her mother had to say. Jehan and I sat down by a less crowded fire and went through my documents over the stew. He must have been hungry from riding, for he quickly emptied his bowl.

First was a report from Chagneux, our gateway town near the swampland. The town's office wrote to me to confirm the safe arrival of the refugees from Montclam; the refugees were provided with food and shelter and medical help, but what was our long-term plan with them?

"Although we are good friends, in the long run, we would want them to return home. I'm sure so would they," I said. Jehan was taking notes. "Keep providing. And tell the chief to consult the treasurer to see if the Barony could help share Chagneux's burden."

The topic of Montclam led to Jehan bringing up the inquiry from the master merchant stationed in Chagneux. Our exclusive first-stop distributor of the Roseland's exports, Montclam, was now temporarily out of commission. The master merchant, having suddenly lost his counterpart on the other side of the swamp, wanted to set up a forward shop at the edge of Montclam's territory so that we could continue by ourselves the trades with the rest of the kingdom. I liked the idea.

"Hmm, actually, let's have Seigneur Montclam and his people help us with the whole thing. Provided, of course, that the Seigneur agrees to this temporary arrangement. I mean, it's their land, and they are the experts selling our roses. By the way, ask the Seigneur if we could post armed guards at the place."

"Les Postiers do already have a guarded forward base in Montclam. The Seigneur has helped me set it up," Jehan commented, "I could make some rooms for the merchants and the goods."

I blinked.

"You've already put up an armed camp in Montclam's territory?"

"Well, majordome, I don't want to cross the swamp every time I need to talk to you, do I?"

The man had a point. Besides, if Seigneur Montclam was OK with it, then why should I complain.

The rest of the stuff was notes and reports in the nature of for-your-information. I told Jehan to get some rest for the night and leave in the morning. He bid good night and lied down and fell asleep right away. After tossing more logs to the fire to keep my friend warm, I went through the documents, taking my time.

At some point, Anna came over in tears and showed me the letter from her mother. The Baroness wrote simple and short, but the message was heartfelt. She was still recovering from the shock, but after much thinking, the Baroness realized she loved her daughter no matter what. And me, too, she added. The noblewoman appreciated what Anna was doing, and she, too, would put in extra efforts to keep the Barony running while we were away.

"It has only been days, yet I already miss you so much," the Baroness wrote.

Anna sat next to me and buried her head in my chest. She was wiping her tears and snots on my shirt. I patted her small head and only then realized Sieur Henry had been sitting across the fire. He noticed I noticed his presence and gave me a quick smile.

"I did not mean to eavesdrop, but I cannot help but notice you are not a mere servant," he said, gesturing towards the sheets in my lap. "You can read, too."

Anna sat up and wiped tears off her eyes.

'He is the right hand of-' she was trying to say but stopped realizing I would not embarrass myself by voicing her words that boasted my role in the Barony.

"I help out here and there, my good Sieur," I said.

"And thus, a man comes all the way from the Roseland to discuss matters with you."

I sighed.

"Sieur, I would very much appreciate it if you did not share your observation with others."

The forty-something-year-old knight studied my face for some seconds, and then he smiled again.

"That is what I like about you, René. Of the Tavern. Ever so humble."

'But he can be an ass sometimes,' Anna commented. I refused to translate her words and scowled at her, but it seemed Anna's intention was more to point the fact out to me than to inform Sieur Henry of my… occasional assmanship.

Henry leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"I am fascinated and suddenly curious," Henry briefly eyed Anna and continued, "when you speak on the young lady's behalf… these hand gestures Her Ladyship makes… how complicated is it? Is it easy to learn?"

"Well, Sieur, in principle, Lady Anna simply lists words in a sequence," I started to explain. Anna made a series of hand signs, and the Sieur watched with amused eyes. "The rest is up to me to interpret them as a sentence and… polish as it fits the situation."

"My, my. How fascinating."

Anna went over and sat next to him. She pointed at the fire and made the corresponding sign. Sieur Henry understood right away that she was teaching him the word. He tried to move his fingers as Anna did, but it was awkward, and so they giggled and laughed and had a very good time rest of the evening learning some simple signs, while I resumed reading the reports and letters and notes from home. I missed the good old majordome. He had left me quite a large shoe to fill.

###

Jehan had gone early the next morning, even before I woke up. He left me a note and almost the entirety of his peppered jerky from the standard Les Postiers travel kit.

"Having tasted the last night's stew, I've noticed you are sharing with the men. Please keep these for Lady Anna. Her only," he wrote. Anna was, of course, disappointed Jehan had left without saying goodbye to her.

"He has many things to take care of," I told her and handed over the stack of jerky wrapped in a sheet of oiled paper. I was sure she would savor them and eat little by little. It was rather cute how this girl idolized the young hunter since her childhood. Well, to be honest, so did I. Jehan was that cool.

Over the next days, I discovered another cool person, Marion. Having her around was like having an eye in the sky. As we traveled, she negotiated with birds and rodents and such and received their vision and hearing. She not only scouted well ahead of us but behind as well. She would tell us we were approaching a village. And by the time we reached the said settlement, her small creature friends would have already searched everywhere, and she would confidently declare the village to be deserted. That saved us a lot of time, not having to go through every house looking for people or dead bodies.

We had passed several such villages, all deserted. Although we were relieved to find no carnage as was the case for the first village near the forest, we were worried where the folks had gone. They had most likely seen the trouble coming and ran into hiding when the Baron passed by. Somewhere along the Baron's path, though, the folks had failed to warn the unfortunate village of the coming danger. Hence the devastation we had witnessed days ago. What a shame.

One day, borrowing the sight of a bird in the sky, Marion noticed a peasant man spying on us from some distance. Riders were dispatched and brought him before the Count of Armas.

"Milord, we are just afraid," said the man, fearing for his life. As far as he was concerned, we could be another band of evil men like Baron Hugo.

"Is everyone safe?" asked the Comte.

"Yes, milord, but I will not tell you where."

"As you please. But do tell your folks I have chased Baron Hugo away. You are safe to return."

The man brightened up. He thanked the Comte profusely and hurried across the field, running to wherever his people were hiding. We resumed our march to Bourg.

###

The river bent like a traveling snake for miles, but at last, straightened up to a straight line running westward. And here we came across a wooden bridge crossing over some fifty yards of the water. Across the bridge, as Marion had warned us about some miles prior, was a large group of armed soldiers. The witch of the land was not familiar with the nobility of the kingdom and thus could not tell in advance whom we were about to face. As we drew closer and could see with our own eyes, it became apparent to the men of Armas what we were dealing with. As for me, I still had no idea, so I listened with great interest to the conversation between the Comte and his entourage.

"I cannot believe this," said Victor. The Comte did not say anything but groaned.

"If I am not mistaken, that is Vidame de Soilet," Henry, too identified the most prominent of the banners flying on the other side of the river, "which means the Vidame is here on behalf of His Excellency the Bishop of Soilet."

"Not surprising," said the Comte, "for Bourg lies in the diocese of Soilet. Looks like the Bishop is generous to our Hugo."

He pointed across the river.

"We cross this bridge, and we are in Bourg."

I gulped and craned my neck to see better.

The bridge was solidly built, about thirty feet wide and fifty yards across the river that rumbled loud and frothed white as the current picked up speed and flowed fast. On the bridge, to our dismay, they had set up layers of barricades; wooden spikes, and heavily loaded crates. It was impossible for an army with horses and carts to storm across the structure. There was a small gap we could take, a narrow path just enough for us to walk in single file and wind left and right zig-zagging around the obstacles on the bridge.

On the other side of the river was a large group of footmen, in padded cloth armors and armed with spears and halberds and two-handed maces, standing ready in multiple rows. On both sides of these melee fighters were smaller, yet still menacing, rows of archers. These archer groups stood safely behind waist-high barricades of their own, just in case some lucky soul got through the aforementioned spears and such. Overall there were about three hundred men armed to the teeth guarding this bridge. Most of them had some form of 'a red circle in white' on them; some had it as armbands, some as tunics over the armor, some as belt buckles, some painted on helmets, and so on.

"Vidame de Soilet and his army, serving the Bishop of the diocese. These are God's warriors," Victor kindly answered my question. God's warriors, my ass. I scoffed. To Anna and me, we who knew for the fact, this was sacrilegious. But by now, after all the years, she and I had somewhat become used to seeing people falsely claiming to serve God. We tolerated them to some degree because most of the time, it was good people doing good deeds, honestly believing they were carrying out God's will. But when it came to things like this, ridiculous stuff like God's warriors before us... oh boy, she would be mad. I glanced at her and could tell she was trying very hard to hide her anger. She was doing a good job, although there was an ever slight twitch around her eyes. 'My, my. She's really grown,' I thought. Nevertheless, I reached out and held Lily's reins, just in case Anna had the brilliant idea of charging in solo. I worried she might be tempted to do so, for, behind the foot soldiers, there were knights in shiny armors sitting high on their pompous horses. Juicy targets in her eyes. I kept one eye on her hands as well, again, just in case she reached for the bow.

I wondered why a Bishop would have an army serving him, and more importantly, what would be the consequence of us going against them. This was too complicated for a peasant boy like me. One thing was straightforward, though. I did not need to be a military genius to figure out that assaulting across this bridge was a guaranteed suicide.

Rows of tents and fires with pots over them had been set up behind the knights, indicating they had been camping here for some days. Well deep inside the camp was a large tent that posted the Vidame de Soilet's banner high, under which two men in armors were guarding the entrance. Apparently, Vidame de Soilet, whoever the heck he was, had not even bothered to come out to see our arrival. I found that quite insulting. What was even more insulting was the fact that, amidst all these men camping here to prevent us from entering the Barony of Bourg, the Baron himself was nowhere to be seen.

The Comte, accompanied by his right-hand man Victor, trotted forward and stopped one step in on the bridge. From the other side, a knight came forward; I noted this man did not have God's circle mark on him. Furthermore, to my puzzlement, he did not fly Baron Hugo's banner, either. The Vicomte of Armas cleared his throat.

"Make way for His Lordship Marco, Comte d'Armas, the thorny shield of the west, the proud member of His Majesty's outer-region council," Victor shouted across the bridge. He went on for a while, for the Comte carried many titles.

"-and lately, the savior of Montclam!" Victor finished. The last self-proclaimed title had an effect on the men across the river. They grumbled and shifted on their feet, uneasily. The knight, though, remained calm and composed. He raised his visor and revealed a young beardless face; he could not be older than in his late-twenties.

"My Lord the esteemed Comte of Armas, on behalf of Vidame de Soilet, I declare you shall not set foot in Bourg!"

"I am on my way to apprehend Baron Hugo. You, the good sieur knight, whom I, unfortunately, do not recognize, will stand aside and let me pass!" The Comte shouted.

The young man in armor bowed briefly.

"Seigneur of Bourgillet at your service. Seigneur as of-" he named a date. I did a quick recount in my head and realized it was the day we had battled in Montclam. Judging by the bitter tone I suspected that was the day this man inherited his title. He continued,

"As for your stated intention, My Lord, the count of Armas has no jurisdiction in Bourg."

"I indeed do not," the Comte admitted, "however, I do carry the authority to accuse, and the duty to bring the accused to the appropriate court of justice. That, my young Seigneur, is not bound by lands."

The young man turned around and exchanged glances with another knight wearing a white tunic over his armor, with a large red ring on the chest. The Vidame's knight nodded, meaning what the Comte had said were legally true. The young Seigneur faced us again with a disappointed expression. He cleared his throat.

"Whatever the imaginative crimes Your Lordship conveniently fabricates to taint the good Baron's name, the accused, Baron Hugo, has taken refuge in the benevolent Bishop's diocese. I dutifully warn Your Lordship; trespassing on the diocese's ground will be met with the wrath of Vidame de Soilet."

"Outrageous!" the Comte exploded. "The Circle of God's Worshipers shall not interfere with His Majesty's justice in work. You will step aside!"

The Seigneur sighed. He turned again to face the Vidame's knight, and the self-proclaimed God's warrior nodded again. The young man faced us, this time with a firm determination.

"My Lord, then we reach no resolution. I, however, offer Your Lordship two choices; Hand over the mute La Rose whore, and we allow you to walk away unharmed!"

I gasped. What the fuck? The insane man continued.

"Otherwise, you will be brutally defeated right here and right now, only to have the displeasure of witnessing the defect wench defiled and mutilated."

I nudged Anna. She was in shock.

"Do you know that man?"

'No!'

What the heck?