Aldric liked to think of himself as a competent captain even as he rode the edge of penury. If it was frustrating to hear of Alden’s extravagant exploits, it was also a relief that Aldric could accomplish similar things with smaller numbers.

Alden had always been an ass, even back when they were generals serving under the Queen. He was unafraid of throwing his men into the meat grinder, was bloodthirsty and his hamfisted tactics accounted for no surrender.

Aldric himself preferred to conserve his forces, use guile when necessary, and he always tried negotiation first. He didn’t shy from battle, but he preferred a policy of unnecessary bloodshed whenever possible.

Things had come to a head when Aldric had pacified a region under Her Majesty’s order with simple negotiation, only to have Alden stampede through later and massacre everyone involved.

Even though the victory had been Aldric’s, Alden had been the one recognized and lauded by the Empress. To Her, results were only results when there was a body count.

In retaliation, Aldric sank the entire fleet Alden’s men were stationed aboard. One didn’t sink thirty of Her Majesty the Empress’ ships without drawing Her attention however, and as Aldric stood trial for the destruction of the Empire’s property, his allies turned the harbor guns on the Noble District and to one estate in particular and pounded it flat.

The Empress offered Aldric a pardon; there was still enough affection between the two of them that she was willing at least to let him live, but then word had come that Alden had marched the surviving members of his men through Aldric’s estate.

Aldric turned his back on the Empire, nurtured his hate, and decided the Merchant Cities would offer him a challenge. He had nothing left to lose. He’d lost his estate, his family, and his faith in the Anglish Empire.

The room where Aldric sat was similar in many ways to the other apartments in the Duchess’ palace- wide and open, with tasteful tapestries, colorful drapes, and polished wood panels anchored to an otherwise unrelieved white stone. Aldric sat at the small desk in the bedroom of Daveth’s apartments, writing in his reports what had transpired. Unbidden, his mind cast back to the Duchess’ bedchamber the night before and his troubled frown deepened.

Aldric set down his log book and tapped his lip with the quill meditatively. In a way, Daveth was a known quantity. Aldric and the Seventh Seal had recruited him from the gallows and through martial discipline and that monk, drilled into Daveth a measure of control over his black rages.

On the other hand, after the scandal that had taken shape, many unknowns about the giant had suddenly sprung forward, demanding attention.

Aldric tipped back in his chair and glanced over at the bed where the giant was sleeping off his drunken rampage.

The giant was mumbling, speaking in a language that Aldric knew of but couldn’t speak, himself. The Captain of the Seventh Seal would pay a pretty coin to learn that secret, though he wouldn’t let Daveth know that.

Daveth had shouted at him in High Urthan, a language that was only spoken amongst Urthan royalty. There was no reason that Aldric could think of that Daveth could know High Urthan. That language was used by the elite, only spoken to each other.

Aldric had heard a few words here and there before; one could not help but learn of such things when one was a former general to Her Majesty Queen Arlene Lybeth of Angland.

However, Aldric had picked up Daveth in his home village, over two hundred miles away from the Urthan border, and they’d yet to travel to Urthan itself. As far as Aldric had found out, Daveth’s father was a clerk and his mother was a simple serving girl. Aldric made a note in his log to send out some letters of inquiry back to his friends in Angland about Daveth’s background again.

Aldric would figure out some other way of getting the man to spill his secrets.

Daveth thrashed in his sleep, but Aldric had made triple-sure there was no give to the ropes that bound Daveth to the bed frame. It was a simple yet effective philosophy: If a line was slack, Daveth could use his phenomenal strength to tear himself free. If the lines were taut, then no matter how he thrashed, he wouldn’t be able to generate the necessary force to tear himself free.

Last night was supposed to be a celebration; Daveth had turned it into a scandalous travesty starting somehow in the camps of the Seventh Seal last night and ending in the palace. Aldric made a note to avoid letting the giant get his hands on so much drink.

*****

Daveth wandered a darkened battlefield, illuminated with occasional lightning strikes. A blade dangled in his hand, sometimes a straight-edged longsword, sometimes a brutal hooked shortsword, sometimes a spear. A woman walked beside him as he searched for his next target. Her eyes were a deep lapis lazuli, her hair black as a crow’s wing.

“I can give this to you, if you want, Daveth.” She offered. “An endless array of battles, from one end of the world to the next.”

For a moment Daveth stopped his relentless search of the battlefield, and focused on the woman.

“What-?” He began, but the dream shifted.

A girl, really a petite slip of a woman, dressed in the accoutrements of a Yamato Shrine Maiden gripped Daveth’s vest with her tiny fists and sobbed into his chest.

“She was everything to me and now she’s gone!” she screamed sorrowfully, mournfully.

He felt himself drawn back to the battlefield, and the raven-haired woman.

“Stay with me, big guy.” She encouraged. “Think about what I’m offering: The glory of battle, the thunderous shout for war. Fields of endless reaping, all at your hand, at your whim.”

The sky rumbled overhead, and something illuminated the clouds from within, something warmer in color. A shrill cry of a hunting eagle pierced the air, and embers began falling from the sky like snow.

“You-!” The woman shouted at the sky, and shook her fist.

Whatever illuminated the sky grew brighter as it descended through the haze of clouds, glowing brighter, growing hotter.

Svara jabbed her finger into Daveth’s chest hard, painfully. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll make the smart choice.” She snarled, and the dream shifted again.

Daveth was flat on his back and a woman-no, a creature stared down at him impassively. Silver threads seemed to be embedded in its skin, its eyes were pupilless orbs of brilliant sky blue and pink fire that churned and seethed with repressed fury. Just being close to it, he could feel the wrongness, the strangeness, the alienness of it radiating off of it.

“What do you want?” Daveth managed to choke out.

“At least you remembered to ask the right question this time.” An unfamiliar girl with lavender hair and eyes chided him gently. She affectionately touched his face. “It’s been a long time, and I can’t wait to be with you again.”

Daveth opened his eyes. His mouth was dry, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. His head hurt and it pounded painfully.

He moved ro rub it, and discovered he was bound. He struggled, but couldn’t seem to get the leverage to wrestle himself free.

*****

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” Aldric said dryly.

Daveth opened his eyes and tried to turn over, but his arm wouldn’t move.

“What-” He rasped hoarsely. Aldric smiled, and Daveth squinted at him.

“Am i dead?” Daveth asked carefully. Aldric chuckled. “No, but you might wish you were.” He remarked. “You created... You’re a little troublemaker when you’re drunk, did you know that?” Aldric’s voice, although light, carried a tightness of anger Daveth was familiar with.

Daveth closed his eyes; the light was too bright. “What’re you talking about?” He asked.

“You were pretty drunk; do you remember anything from last night?” Aldric asked, and Daveth shook his head minutely.

“Well... that’s a pity.” Aldric replied, but he chuckled again. “You wouldn’t believe the shit you got yourself into last night.”

Daveth struggled. “I’m... tied down?” He said, and frowned angrily.

Aldric chuckled again, dangerously. “Trust me, it was for our safety.” He replied.

Daveth closed his eyes. He tried to think back to the night previous and drew a blank.

“Did-” He paused. “Did I kill anyone?” He forced himself to ask, hating himself for hesitating. He knew he was infamous for his rages.

“That’s a good question.” Aldric replied. “We won’t know until the healers finish their work.” He explained.

“Shit.” Daveth muttered. “Let me out of here.”

Aldric shook his head. “Oh no. Not yet. We’re going to have ourselves a little chat.”

Daveth eyed his commanding officer. “You going to tell me how bad it was?”

Aldric combed his beard with his fingertips. “Eventually. First, you’re going to answer me a question I’ve been wondering for a while.”

Daveth blinked at him and justted his chin at his captain, indicating he should go on.

“How is it you know High Urthan?”

Daveth’s face immediately became suspiciously neutral. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He immediately retorted.

“Do you?” Alric wondered, obviously not put off by Daveth’s prevarication.

“You going to free me?” Daveth growled, and Aldric pulled out his pipe and busied himself with tamping tobacco into it.

“Eventually.” Aldric repeated. “I’ve been trying to piece together everything you did last night- which was a lot- and I was hoping you could fill in some of the blanks.”

“At least give me some water to rinse my mouth out.” Daveth replied petulantly.

Aldric picked up a sheet of parchment, ignoring Daveth's request. “First, you had some fun at camp. Some of it I can condone, the usual rabble-rousing. You did something to piss off Alysia, though. No idea what it was; she’s not talking.”

He paused and tapped the stem of his pipe against his lips. “She’s not really the talkative type, of course, but whatever you did infuriated her. She was so pissed off that despite a direct order from me, she refused to come near you. I had to ask her sister for help with you.”

“Shit.” Daveth muttered, and tugged at his bonds again.

“No memory of that?” Aldric offered, and Daveth shook his head.

“Well, that’s a strike against you.” Aldric decided and set the paper aside and picked up another one.

“Whatever you did in the camp would have been fine, because what happens in camp stays in camp, but you went drinking with some of the Nauders guardsmen in the capital.”

“If it was just drinking-” Daveth began, and Aldric nodded.

“It was. But we had a discussion about this already, Daveth. You have to keep a professional distance from the client.”

“I’m not following you.” Daveth replied. “Whatever. Untie me.” Daveth rumbled angrily.

“You going to throw things at me?” Aldric asked, and Daveth shook his head a little. “No, I want up. And a drink of water to rinse my mouth out.” he repeated.

“You know what I want?” Aldric asked gently.

“What?” Daveth asked warily.

“An apology.” Aldric replied tersely. “You were so far beyond out of control it’s unbelievable. untenable. You were beyond offensive last night; you were an embarrassment. You’ve made a mockery of the Seventh Seal.”

Aldric looked to the side and sighed through his nose. “You owe a lot of people a lot of apologies.” He glanced at Daveth. “You should apologize to Alysia.” he raised an eyebrow. “Surprisingly, she seems the most concerned with you... and the least offended. Start with her and apologize to everyone in the Seventh Seal... and everyone in the Duchesses’ keep, ending with the Dutchess herself.”

“By the Faceless Stone, Aldric, what did I do?” Daveth asked wonderingly.

“It would be hilarious under other circumstances.” Aldric muttered, and began tamping his pipe with tobacco. “Oh, right. Your bonds.” he looked at Daveth. “I’ll untie you, but you’re going to spend a week in the stocks for this.”

Daveth shook his head. “Bullshit, I’ll take my lashes. It’ll hurt more, but at least it’ll be over with.”

Aldric snorted a chuckle. “I’ll summarize for your sake: you left the Duchesses’ party at some point. You drank with the men at camp. You did ... something to Alysia, but she won’t say what.” He rubbed his nose briefly, and blew out a smoke ring.

“You came back to the castle, though, and that’s where the real problems begin. See, you attempted to seduce the Duchess.”

“Oh no.” Daveth said, ducking his head. Aldric shrugged. “I guess it worked; she was quite taken with you... until you puked all over her.”

“Oh gods.”

“She screamed; her guards came in.”

“There’s more?”

“You were pretty active last night. You fought off her guards; one of which came and got me. I ordered you to stand down, you responded by throwing her vanity at me.” His brows drew down. “Her entire vanity. Mirror included.”

“Oh shit. I don’t want to hear any more.” Daveth said with a groan.

“I had to order Lynnabel to climb the Duchesses’ balcony and cold-cock you one because you wouldn’t let anyone get close... and because Alysia wanted nothing to do with you. You overturned Her Graces’ bed and was using it for cover while you shouted at me in High Urthan and threw jugs, vases, and anything else you could find- about the only thing you didn’t throw was the Duchess herself.” He looked at Daveth. “How did a man like you learn High Urthan?” He asked again curiously.

“From my mother.” Daveth replied tersely.

“You solve one mystery by giving me another.” Aldric complained. He shrugged. “A question for later. A question you can answer now though is this, Daveth: How much in damages to physical property alone do you think you owe?”

“The mirror.” Daveth groaned, thinking of the glass.

“And her bed. And her vanity. You destroyed hundreds of thousands of steel coin in furniture alone. You wounded ten of her guards, several of which may die. You were about as offensive as the meanest sailor in the meanest shipyard, shouting profanities both scatalogical and blasphemous in at least six different languages. Is none of this ringing a bell?” Aldric spat hotly. Daveth had never seen Aldric this furious.

“Shit. I don’t remember a thing.”

“Are you sober?” Aldric asked and Daveth nodded.

Aldric nodded and produced a knife and cut Daveth free of the ropes that tied him.

“You’ll take your lashes and spend time in the stocks, Daveth. You’ll also face whatever the Duchess has planned as punishment up to execution.” He puffed on his pipe vigorously. “I won’t let her kill you, but that’s just about all I won’t allow.”

*****

There was a tap on the wooden plaque outside of her tent, and then the Lord Commander called out.

“Alysia, are you there? Can I come in?” She opened her mouth and tried to acknowledge him, but was surprised when nothing came out. The tent flap rustled as he fumbled with the thong, and she bolted to a standing position and marched to the doorway. Drawing the flap to the side, she eyed him carefully.

“Yes, Lord Commander? What can I do for you?” Alysia asked curiously. He made as if to move inside, but she shifted her position defensively, stopping him in his tracks. He sighed quietly, and glanced down at her, meeting her gaze.

“I’m here to apologize for my behavior last night.” Daveth said by way of introduction. Alysia’s eyebrow twitched at this and her face became unreadable.

“You wish to apologize?” She asked pointedly. There seemed to be a note of emotion in her voice that he couldn’t identify. Anger? Disappointment? For someone like her, someone that placed a great deal in honor and respect, discipline and nobility, Daveth must have looked worse than a fool. How much respect had he lost in her eyes because of his uncontrolled drunken rampage?

Daveth shrugged helplessly. “I was very drunk last night; out of control. Whatever I did to you, I’m sorry.”

“You are sorry?” She repeated, as if tasting the words. There was a low, dangerous tone to her voice. Was she going to hit him?

She looked back up at him sharply, eyes narrowing, eyebrow raising. “You remember nothing of last night?” She asked pointedly.

Daveth shrugged. “Aldric told me a little... the problems I created in the Duchess’ castle. He didn’t mention what I did here... but no, I honestly remember nothing.” She took a step back from him, folded her arms across her chest, and glanced to the side. “It’s true; you were very drunk last night, Lord Commander.” She allowed in a low voice. “But there is nothing for you to apologize for between us, Lord Commander.” Alysia finally said.

“What did I do?” He asked.

“If you want to know, you will have to remember on your own, because I will not speak of it.” She stated directly.

“Not even a little?” He asked. She shook her head.

“That bad, huh?” He asked, but she stared back impassively.

“I should leave.” he finally stated after a pause. She nodded. “You should.”

As he turned to go, Alysia spoke up. “Lord Commander...”

He stopped, and turned back to her and raised his eyebrows interrogatively.

“Is your head okay?” She asked after a moment. He blinked, confused, and then nodded. “Yeah. Nothing I don’t deserve.”

She nodded, and stepped back inside the tent.

After Daveth had left, Alysia let the tent flap close, and she returned to the narrow cot she slept in and sat meditatively. A moment later Lynnabel entered with a small satchel that bulged appreciably.

“That was the Lord Commander.” She said by way of introduction, and set the sack down. “I fear for our health, sister.” She said with mock dismay. “There is scarcely any meat to be found. Still, vegetables are palatable.”

“Yes, I spoke with him.” Alysia replied, and something in her tone made Lynnabel pause.

“Well? Dearest sister, you cannot leave me in ambiguity. What did he have to say?” Lynnabel asked brightly.

“He... apologized for his drunken behavior.” Alysia replied. Lynnabel raised an eyebrow. “That was very responsible of him. You do not seem happy though, dear sister.”

“He did nothing to me that should be apologized for.” Alysia replied dismissively.

“You have kept me in the dark long enough, sister. What was it that our Lord Commander did?”

“I think you have stayed in this company far too long.” Alysia remarked dryly. “You’re starting to sound like them, all nattering and chattering magpies, swapping the latest piece of juicy gossip.” Alysia finished acidly.

Lynnabel smiled brightly at her sister. “He did nothing worth apologizing for, and yet you do not wish to be around him...” She trailed off. “It’s all very suspicious, sister. Did he lie with you?” She grinned, and Alysia glared at her hotly.

“Certainly not, so you can wipe that smug look off your face right this instant, sister.” She took a breath and held it for a moment before releasing it. “And besides, you should know better than I who he lay with that night.” she finished petulantly.

Lynnabel touched her lips with a fingertip thoughtfully. “This is true. And I have asked his forgiveness already for striking him.”

“Did he truly lie with the Duchess?” Alysia asked, and Lynnabel’s eyebrow quirked.

“It’s possible. They were both unclothed when I arrived, after all. If you’re asking if I witnessed the act, I did not.” She reported, and then raised an eyebrow. “Still, Lord Commander Daveth is very strong. I daresay he could overpower us.”

Alysia nodded. “He can, at that.” She admitted, and Lynnabel glanced at her sister, eyes narrowing speculatively.

*****

He forced her against the tree, picking her up so that her feet dangled more than a foot off the ground and his lips found hers before she could protest.

He was fast, unnervingly so. one moment he’d been staggering loosely up the path, seemingly arguing with himself in a language she couldn’t understand, and the next moment he was rushing her, fending off her struggling arms, breath heavily redolent with alcohol, his voice urgent, his words incomprehensible. His hips thrust at her ineffectually and he groaned against her neck. A thousand conflicting emotions whirled through her head and her heart pounded in her throat and temples. She was at turns aroused and nauseous, elated and disgusted, excited and fearful.

“Alysia...” He moaned against her and her nails dug into his shoulders.

‘Lord Co-” She started, and then changed her mind. “Daveth.” She said in a quieter, softer voice.

He kept pressing himself against her insistently, as if her leathers and his clothes were nonexistent.

“Daveth, my tent.” She urged him, fearful of being discovered.

“I can’t make it that far.” He mumbled against her throat. She glanced up at the sky through the limbs of the heavy pine she was pressed against. “I want you, Alysia.” He growled, and dragged his tongue up her neck. She shivered at this and she felt the last of her resolve slip away.

“I have to get undressed for this to work, Daveth.” She managed, and he released her. She worked at her belt frantically, and he reached out and tried to help her. His help was frustratingly useless, his fingers got entangled with hers and she couldn’t undo the buckle with him interfering. She slapped his hands away and pushed him back, and then her belt came free. She skinned her breeches down and reached out for him, but he must have stepped wrong because suddenly his feet went out from underneath him comically and he tumbled down the low hill with a startled yelp.

She almost went after him, but she heard concerned voices from the camp, and saw several of her compatriots leave the roaring bonfire and approach the area where Daveth lay.

“Oh, if it isn’t the Commander!” Someone yelled. “What’re you doing on your face like that? Come on, let’s help him up.”

She stood there for a moment at the top of the hill, watching them struggle with him. As her ardor cooled she realized she was standing at the top of a low hill with her breeches around her knees while her fellow soldiers tried to help the drunken Lord Commander of her army to his feet not more than twenty feet away. She pulled her breeches up with a jerk and fastened her belt with quick, angry movements and stalked back to her tent.

*****

The trial, such as it was, took place in the throne room.

The Duchess was conspicuously absent. Falki initially began by blaming Daveth, but eventually admitted that the Duchess was with their mother, whom Daveth had liberated in the keep. The lady Sybella refused to speak to or acknowledge Daveth as anything but a dangerous Hymir-kin despite his rescue of her, and the indifferent murder of her captors. A half-giant had rampaged across the capital and violated her daughter, the Duchess. As far as Sybella was concerned, Daveth deserved nothing but a rope to hang from.

Falki was inclined to agree, but given that his mother had been returned, his uncle punished, the army in shambles, and the curious insistence that Daveth be forgiven his crimes, Falki agreed to imprisonment for the giant for the remainder of the contract, since Aldric had initially negotiated all the way at the beginning that Nauders would shelter the Seal through the winter.

Daveth himself was frustrated and ashamed with himself, hearing Aldric arguing on Daveth’s defense, despite Aldric’s insistence that he be punished.