Not a single one among the five in the manor had eaten since that morning. In solemn silence broken only by the echoing roars of stomachs they paraded downstairs to the dining hall and promptly found themselves served by a languid trickle of servants. Their eyes suggested they knew all was not well.

Eris had to be carried down the stairs. She felt horrendous and much too ill to eat—until she caught the scent of dinner, at which point her appetite turned more ravenous than anyone else’s at the table. Her will was strong enough that no pain or discomfort was deterrent when she desired something. Her hunger would be sated without regard for nausea.

There was much gnawing, but no talking. Aletheia was the one who worked up the courage to break the silence.

“So it wasn’t really you, right?” she said.

“Of course not,” Diana said. She sat at his side and put a hand on his shoulder.

Jason stared at a point of nothing on the table. Eventually he said, and his voice was quiet, “You know when you get really pissed off? And you say something you didn’t mean, and you regret it the next day?”

“Not really,” Aletheia said.

“I think we all do,” Rook said.

“Yeah. Well. I feel…it’s like that. Except I’ve been ‘angry’ since you first came, and—”

“Since we came?” The choice of word caught Eris’ attention. “Do you mean to say you were under control of your faculties when we met?”

He nodded. “Your being here freaked me out. I started wearing the sword everywhere. It…I’d used it to kill a robber in Darom and I knew it was enchanted. Keeping it on me just felt right, like it warded off danger.”

“Then you can’t blame the sword for giving us away to Lukon,” Rook said. “Or for trying to turn us away.”

“No,” Jason sighed. “No, that was me. I mean it was all me but—that was really me. And I don’t regret any of that.”

“May I kill him now?” Eris asked after a sip of wine.

He leaned back in his chair, apprehensive, but Rook put an arm on Eris’ wrist. “She’s joking,” he said. “Right?”

“At this rate,” she said, “they will need to invent an expression for being fooled three times by the same scribe.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson,” Jason said. “Look. I’m sorry about Lukon, Rook, but I stand by what I told you. There was nothing I could do, and if I lied and got caught—I have a family to keep safe now. I won’t risk them for anything.”

“Except a sword,” Eris said with disinterest.

“Can you stop with the commentary, you frosty bitch?” Jason said.

“Jason!” Diana scolded.

“Rook,” Eris said, “your friend is being an ungracious host toward the woman who just saved his soul.”

“I feel—I’m having a pretty shitty week, okay? So can you maybe cut it out?”

“You didn’t even have to fight an ogre,” Aletheia said.

“Everyone,” Rook bellowed, “please. I think we can all have empathy for each other after what we’ve been through. Jason—I think you had more to say?”

“Is your girlfriend going to let me finish?” Jason glared at Eris.

“Not if you continue with habitual idiocy,” Eris said. “For example, you say now you will not risk your family for anything. Then we can expect you to betray us again, can we not? For our presence does increase the risk, as you told us upon our arrival.”

“Fuck! Just—listen! I didn’t have a choice when Lukon came here, okay? But I didn’t—I don’t know why I told the Prince about Rook. I wasn’t going to. I thought the plan could work, but then…I got scared, and I couldn’t think of anything except my kid, and I just…I never would’ve gone that far before, but it was like nothing else made sense. And then trying to fight Rook—I mean, come on, who the fuck do I think I am? I just—I—”

“It was the sword,” Diana said.

“It didn’t feel like it,” Jason said. “It feels like…I’m sorry. I didn’t want to help you, but I never would have betrayed you like that. After everything. It’s just…I feel really guilty.”

“It’s all right,” Rook said. “What’s done is done. All that matters is the next step. Can we count on you to be there?”

Jason stared across the table. He pushed his hair back like an athlete drenched in sweat. There were tears in his eyes, which was pitiful for any man but especially shameful for a man before his wife. “You probably shouldn’t,” he said, choking. But then he nodded. “But yeah. I—I’ll be there.”

“We’re going to trust him again?” Aletheia said.

“Next Rook shall stick his hand within a furnace to see if ‘tis still hot, to test if fire has cooled since his last burn,” Eris said.

“You know me, Eris,” Rook said to her with a smile, “I like it getting burned.”

The reference to his poem sent her shivering and left her amused enough to have to look away to hide her smile. She suddenly realized how much she wanted to climb on top of him and…go to sleep.

“I can’t wait to explain this all to Khel,” he continued. “It’s going to be an exciting week. Lucky for you, we won’t be able to stay here after tonight. The faster we move on Castle Korakos the better. About that…”

“What?” Jason said.

“We’re hiring mercenaries for five hundred drachmae a sword. You’re paying.”

“Five hundred a sword?” The exclamation was likely heard in Ganarajya.

“Starting price. Think of it as a way to pay off your guilt.”

Jason looked as though he had been impaled, which brought Eris some pleasure, but eventually nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

“What about the sword?” Aletheia said. “What do we do with it?”

“Throw it in the Hepaz,” Jason said.

“Or offer it to Hierax as a gift and see what chaos ensues,” Eris suggested.

Rook frowned. “I don’t account that a good plan.”

“Just a suggestion.”

“What does it do?” Aletheia asked. “It made Jason—more like he used to be. What would it do to Rook? Or me?”

“‘Tis a question best left unanswered, methinks,” Eris said.

Rook looked at her and chortled. “Verily,” he said. “All the same—no doubt it would make me even more handsome and heroic. And Aletheia would be unbearably sarcastic. And Eris…”

She raised an eyebrow. “What, precisely, do you think such a spell would do to me?”

“Nothing,” he said innocently. “Surely you’d be immune.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm. Your character is too strong to be influenced by distant demons.”

“How flattering.”

“He just doesn’t want to say you’d be an even bigger bitch,” Aletheia said.

“The word is cu—” Jason started, but Diana hit him. “You’re right. It’s not possible. You probably wouldn’t change at all.”

Eris considered this all even-handedly. She was not so naïve to think herself incorruptible after her experience with the Manawyrm. Still—it was difficult to imagine. Jason was weak-willed and unintelligent; this was what made him vulnerable to demons. But if she were to find herself so bewitched…

She shrugged. “We may never know. However—we would be fools to discard the sword now. ‘Tis very powerful, and may be useful yet.”

“Any power that comes from Lord Arqa is power I’d sooner avoid,” Rook said.

“Really?” asked Eris. “You seem to have no compunction over exhausting his riches.”

A moment of hesitation. Then, “Fair enough. But still, it’s too dangerous to use.”

“It may be too dangerous not to use. We do not know what lies ahead of us.”

Rook scratched his beard. “It hardly matters if we can’t destroy it. We might as well keep it with us, someplace safe, where it won’t be found. Nowhere else will be as easy to keep it away from others.”

“I will take its custody,” Eris said. “I should be able to handle it safely.” She nearly collapsed in her seat. “But before that, I must find rest. I have never been so exhausted in my life.”

“It’s been a long day,” Rook said. “Okay.” Then to the table, “This was the last day of fun. Tomorrow the real work starts.”

The next morning she felt worse than a corpse. No manarashes formed across her arms, but even as the sun pierced her eyelids and dragged her screaming into consciousness, every muscle in her body ached in exhaustion. She would have remained face-down in bed for an eternity were it not for the nausea that compelled her to rise; she threw up in a chamber pot.

Rook watched her from the bed. Eris hated being seen in such weakness, even by him, but there was nothing but concern to his features. When she had finished he put an arm around her shoulder.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She wiped her mouth off. A deep breath. She regarded him. He was shirtless and covered in bruises. He looked like a man trampled by a stampede of horses. Were he any more purple he would have been a troll.

“No worse than you,” she replied.

“Good, because I feel fantastic.”

“I doubt that.”

“Pain is all in the mind,” he said. “It won’t stop me from reaching Hierax.”

He was unusually focused. Eris put her head on his lap and collapsed down into the bed, allowing the mattress to consume her back. “Speak for yourself,” she said, gazing up at him. “I feel worse than Zydnus.”

He stroked her hair. “Short?”

“Dead.”

“Is it Spellsickness?”

“No. But I overcast; my Essence is drained. I will need days to recover fully.”

“Again?”

“You and your brother have been rushing me,” she said.

He nodded. “Okay,” he said, and he leaned down to kiss her—but found her forehead instead of her mouth. Which was fair enough. “I have to meet Khelidon. Can you come?”

Torture would have been required to admit it, but it had been a week without Rook’s company, and she felt very sick, and all she truly wanted was to lie with him in bed and…‘cuddle.’ But he had a look of conviction on his face. For once her womanly charms did little to allure him.

“If you wish me to, yes,” she said.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get ready.”

So they did. Back in adventurer’s attire, for Rook’s armor had been all but destroyed in his confrontation with Jason, and their things were returned to them. Eris wrapped Arqa’s sword in sheets and placed it within her backpack. It was not a subtle method of transportation—it didn’t fit—but it would do for the duration of their transit to Khelidon’s estate.

Ajax had just arrived when they descended the stairs.

“You’re awake,” he said. “Good. It’s only noon. Khel needs you.”

“Excellent,” Rook said, “for we need him.’

“No,” Ajax said. He caught Rook with a hand to the chest. “You don’t understand. He needs you now. His manor is besieged.”

“By the Prince?” Eris said.

“You show your master some concern,” Rook said, growing frantic. “Then there’s no time to waste.”

Ajax remained cool. He grabbed Rook’s bicep. “Not by the Prince. Nor Hierax. By crowds of your adoring fans.”

“What? I—aether, of course,” Rook swore.

“Come. Now,” Ajax commanded. He departed. Rook and Eris retrieved Aletheia and followed after.

Khelidon made his residence near the Archon’s palace. “It’s a gentleman’s manor,” Ajax said, “but hardly a fortress. Nothing like that ponce Jason’s mansion.”

“I hope you have a speech planned,” Eris said.

“I’m writing it now,” Rook said.

“Unless you’d prefer to be swarmed,” Ajax said, “I’ll bring you in the back. Then you can confront them from the safety of the second floor.”

He did as he promised. They heard the crowds long before they saw them clogging the streets past the gates of the Palace District, where the streets were narrower and more defensible and the apartments were taller, more luxurious, and housed the city-side residences of the upper aristocracy (most of whom lacked the money to live in the Silver District).

An ocean of pedestrians eventually came in view. Some were no doubt curious what the fuss considered, but far more strained desperately to see the great Strategos in the flesh. Ajax led them through the crowd’s outer rings, then into a building with an open lobby filled with concerned-looking and well-dressed slaves. At a stairwell he went down instead of up, and at a door he input a code at a complex mechanical lock.

A long, dark hallway. Past more stairs and more locked doors. Then he chose one, ascended, and opened a heavy gate with a key.

A man in armor stood on the other side He wore a white crow on his tabard. He was startled at first, but he and Ajax shared a nod.

They were within the manor now. It was a tall, narrow building, with high ceilings but small rooms with slight furniture. Beyond a dining room and through a field of large windows swarmed a crowd that roared with deafening, inaudible chants. Six more guards in armor stood outside and kept them at bay, their backs against the wall.

Khelidon was upstairs. He jumped to his feet when he saw Rook.

“About time, brother,” he said. “I didn’t want to tell them you were out, so they’re expecting you. Is Jason dead?”

“Unfortunately no,” Eris said.

“It’s complicated,” Rook said. “He’s back on our side.”

“For now,” Aletheia said.

Khelidon clenched his jaw. “You’re the stupidest man in this city, you know that, Rook?”

“Eris has told me a few times,” Rook said. He pressed through the parlor and living area and toward more windows, where a balcony overlooked the streets from the second storey. “Any ideas on what to say?”

“Take Eris,” Khelidon said. “Everyone likes attractive women.”

“They have seen us together already,” Eris said.

Rook nodded and waited for her to come to his side. “Anything else?”

“Five hundred drachmae to anyone who helps you kill Hierax,” Khelidon said.

“That I remember.”

“And remind them what he did.”

“I—get the idea.” He smiled to Eris, who frowned back, and led them both out onto the balcony.

There were men and women and children down both ends of the street toward infinity. A solid river of humanity, heads of all colors.

When they saw Rook and Eris together, the noise caused a tremor throughout the whole city. The balcony shook. The railing nearly fell off. It was an hour before silence came, and it wasn’t for long, for Rook stared down at each and every face, and he leaned against the railing and said,

“Good afternoon.”

Then the noise began again. Another eruption of applause. Eris frowned to watch these people. She understood, in the abstract, that a man who won a great tournament would win adoration, but she did not understand what those howling at the sight of Rook were actually thinking. There was no circumstance that would ever compel her to stand in a crowd, waiting to catch a glimpse of some stranger. Surely the women below understood Rook was Eris’ and that they would never have him? Why did they waste their day here?

And yet they did. En masse.

Rook gestured for them to quiet themselves, and they did, like obedient schoolchildren before their headmaster.

“You know me,” he started. “Eris, my partner—wasn’t introduced at the Colosseum. Don’t tell her, but I’m hopeful we might soon be married.”

Eris flushed red. Embarrassment flooded down onto her like heated off pour from a gutter as the crowd laughed. She would have considered drastic action for such a comment on any other day, but for now she had little magic available, and she was paralyzed by the gaze of this crowd.

When she glared his way she caught a momentary lapse in his confidence. Rook oozed charisma when he wanted to, but this was the first test of a statesman. Not a gladiator celebrating a victory—a politician moving a crowd to his own purpose. But his expression steeled over presently, and his voice boomed in a rich baritone through the streets. Eris was so used to the timbre of his voice in private conversation that she had almost forgotten how much it had drawn her toward him when they first met.

“Consider your brother or sister,” he called as confidence returned. “The faces of your nephews and nieces. Think about what you would do to keep them safe. I have a brother and I would face down a dozen more ogres for his honor—that’s what it means to be family. I can’t imagine doing anything to hurt him.”

A pause.

“Could you hurt your sibling? Can you imagine betraying your closest kinsman? What would it take? How much money? How many titles to spoil your family and ruin its honor? How much prestige to betray your siblings? What would it take to become a kinslayer?”

Only one brave man called out, “Nothing!”

The others nodded in agreement, but they hung on Rook’s words.

“Nothing. For all honorable men the answer is nothing. For me and for all of you, nothing could possibly move us to betray our own blood. But for Hierax, the answer wasn’t nothing. It was the dukedom of Korakos.”

His voice raised.

“That bounty was enough for his honor and all his family. Beloved uncle, loyal brother, become fratricide for status. He killed my father and mother and would have killed me had I not fled. There are three dukes in this city, only three, and that is the character of one of them—a bloody, butcherous fratricide who committed a crime second only to killing a parent!”

He drew his sword. His family sword. He held it out before the crowd, showing clearly the crow’s head at its pommel.

“Hierax is no duke! He is a murderer and a villain! This is the symbol of the dukes of Korakos, from father to son for a thousand years, until four years past. But it will be soon again. He cowers even now in my keep. He conspired beneath the Prince’s nose to rig the Tournament against me, but with Eris’ help I won—and now I’ll win again!”

The cheers that followed were more cautious. Such political concerns were over the heads of these peasants.

“I ask only one thing of the people of Katharos: spread the word of Hierax’s crimes. Tell them Korax has returned for his throne. And remember when you hear the name of my uncle that it is the name of one who is not fit to rule in this city. You owe me nothing more. My duty as the son of a doukas is to you, to keep you safe, and until I sit in Castle Korakos I will ask for nothing but your hearts. But…”

“He’s a bastard!” a man shouted.

“I’ll fight for Korax!” shouted another. After that a clamor broke out, but Rook managed to control them back to silence.

“You would risk yourselves for me?” Rook said.

“Should a murderer escape punishment for his noble birth?” Eris said. All eyes returned to her. “Would you not rise to hunt down a killer of your brother, were he on the run? Will you allow Hierax to go free because he hides behind keep walls?”

The answer from the crowd was a resounding ‘no.’

“Were I you,” she added, “I should hold my duke to a higher standard. And such a standard is Korax.” She put an arm on his shoulder.

Eris had little sense for oratory, but she was good at manipulation; the crowd loved this line of thinking best of all. It helped that she also believed it to be true. The cheering once again shook the streets.

“Then tell the whole city!” Rook shouted. He climbed onto the railing and waved his sword in the air. “Tell them Korax promises five hundred drachmae to any man who storms Castle Korakos at his side! And when you see a man of the Duke, any man with the black crow on his tabard, let him throw down his arms—tell him the Blond Rook has returned. And if he doesn’t, only then will you know friend from foe.”

She remembered the enamorment the common people had, in her childhood, with the affairs of aristocrats, but still she was surprised at how unending the ovation was that followed. No doubt it was the promise of a half-year’s wages that secured Rook as savior and hero in their minds. And he looked the part: valorous, handsome, chivalrous, every bit out of a story. They wanted to believe in him, because life in the city was harsh, taxation oppressive, and there was always hope a hero might come to offer salvation.

He added one final thing:

“As for my victory in the Tournament. I dedicate it to the people, whose honor I never doubted. And I dedicate it to my father and mother, who will have their justice and their souls put to rest. And to Eris, who is the fairest woman in all Esenia, and the love of my life.”

Her face went red again, but there was no time to protest before his tongue was assaulting her mouth, and her waist was in his hands, and his nose was brushing against hers, and the cheers deafened everyone for blocks around. Eris fought against him at first—she did not approve of earning his chivalric dedication, or the implication they were to be married, or this audacious display of public affection, like she was something in his possession.

Yet after a few moments she remembered the women in the crowd below her. She thought about how many spectators in the Colosseum must have gone to sleep that night dreaming of the handsome Korax, and how he, in fact, belonged to her—and now she could show them. That made Rook better than any dress or piece of jewelry. Nothing stroked her vanity more than showing their love off publicly. So all her embarrassment faded, and she kissed him back.

The situation was explained to Khelidon, Arqa’s sword shown to him. He seemed unconvinced.

“But we need his money, so there’s hardly any choice,” he said. He assured Rook that he would take care of mustering the new Korakos soldiers, adding, “The sooner we can strike the better. After a speech like yours Hierax will know we’re coming. Not that he didn’t know before.”

“Don’t we need time to prepare?” Aletheia said. “We can’t just—walk up and take over the castle.”

“Magicians are forbidden by law to participate in temporal struggles among aristocrats,” Khelidon said. “Korakos isn’t meant to withstand two magicians battering down its gates.”

“That seems like an oversight,” she said.

“Not when magician-proofing the walls costs one hundred thousand times more than the alternative. Security must be balanced with affordability.”

“I need more time to rest,” Eris said.

“How long?” Rook asked.

“Four days. At least. More would be better.”

“Don’t forget about the Seekers,” Rook said. “We’ll have some protection in Korakos when they come after us—but we’re not safe here. We need to move quickly.”

“You can have three days,” Khelidon said, “and we strike on the fourth. Enough delay. It’s time to take Hierax’s head.”

Eris sighed. This time she would have her staff and focus—she would be more insulated from overcasting. “Fine. I will stay here in the interim.”

So four nights and three days began. Eris and Aletheia remained at the Korakos manor, surrounded by guards, and Rook kept mostly with them. But on the second day he went with Khelidon to Crowsbrook to introduce himself to the people there, and when he returned the news could hardly have been better.

“They remember Hierax’s treachery!” Rook exclaimed to the two magicians. “You should have seen them when I showed my face—Kings, you should have seen them!”

“Three of the household men-at-arms have defected,” Khelidon said. “For our bribe, ten young men agreed to join the assault. Another fifteen agreed to come in exchange for lowered taxes, to which my brother sagely replied he would abolish all taxes the moment he was installed as duke.”

“And I will,” Rook shouted. “The peasants should keep their money. I have Jason to extort instead!”

“You’re in a good mood,” Aletheia said.

He swooped down on her and embraced her, picking her up and kissing her on the head. “I saw home, Aletheia! And it’s so close! My home! And it’s going to be ours again!”

The girl was clearly more reserved in her excitement, but after a few minutes of this she was laughing and smiling, too, and she and Rook were talking about horses, tournaments, archery contests, and all the other things he would do when he was duke again.

For her part, despite her Essence was slowly recharging, Eris did not feel much better than the previous days. She watched all this unamused. “Do you not think ‘tis early to celebrate? The Prince may yet intervene, and we have not heard from the Seekers.”

“The Prince is cowed,” Khelidon said. “I spoke to Duke Delphos this morning about it. He has no intention in getting between the people and their champion. We have free reign of the city.”

“And the Seekers?”

“…more troubling,” Rook said, “but they haven’t defeated us yet. Nor will they. Not when I’m a duke and I have real power at my command. They wouldn’t dare. Now be happy for a change!”

Eris was not so convinced, but it was hard to remain in a foul mood when celebrations were afoot. Before long Rook had descended on her, and they kissed until they could stand to kiss no longer. He picked her up and carried her to their room on the topmost floor, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity they shared each other’s bodies. Eris was not well enough to enjoy it fully, but she still wanted him desperately; since the end of the last year there was an emptiness within her that she had never noticed before, and when they were apart it drove her mad.

In the midst of their passion he spoke freely, unthinking, whispering, “You’ll marry me when I’m duke, won’t you?”

They were intertwined in hot lust when the words came. Eris gasped in pleasure, and…opened her eyes to stare at him. “What?”

“Marry me. Please.” He devoured her jaw with his lips.

Now they were so close to the end. Now the contradictions were becoming more apparent. She didn’t want to respond; she only wanted to indulge in her desires. “Why?” she whispered back.

“Because I love you, and everyone knows, and I never want to go without you.”

“We have love without marriage,” she said. Her voice was insistent.

“But it’s not the same,” he said. “I want to look at you and know that you are my duchess.”

“I—Rook—I am not a wife.”

“Do you love me?”

She was sorrowful as she said, “Yes.”

“Then I can be your husband and you can be my wife.”

“But I am not—and I—I cannot be duchess.”

Their session had been hardly deterred up until this point, but here Rook stopped. “What?”

“Must we discuss this now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…I love you, but I cannot live my life in a castle. You know this is not who I am.”

He stared at her. “Are—but—you’ve done everything to help me—”

“I will do what it takes to help my love. But I cannot stay with you to be your wife. I am an adventurer, Rook. And we may spend months in a castle making love and drinking wine, yet ere long I will grow bored, and no matter how much I love you—I will be forced to leave for my other ambitions.”

Rook collapsed at her side. Sweating. Smelly. “Eris…”

“We will always have what we have shared,” she suggested. “You may—even come with me. And I will visit, and we can do as we have done tonight. But the duchess you desire will not be found in me.”

“You’ll regret leaving,” he said.

“I will. But this is how it must be.” She climbed onto him, head on his chest.

“If you go…” he started, sounding like he had been told a relative was dead, “then…I can’t wait for you. I need a wife. I need a family of my own. I’ll need an heir, and…”

“So you will,” Eris said. “And these are things I cannot give you. Do you not understand this by now?”

“Yes you can,” he whispered. “Why do you say that? You can, Eris.”

“Listen to me, Rook. I care for you…more deeply than I have ever cared for anyone. I did not know ‘twas possible to feel this way for another, and…I am grateful for it, for I do love you. Truly. But I will die before I am made a domestic servant. I will die before I am made a wife. I will die before I bear you a child, for death is preferable to the slavery of womanhood. I am free. And that is why you love me. Have you forgot already what you told me before the Tournament? That I wanted a man who was not my slave? Well so ‘tis with you; the woman you love is not a wife. And she never shall be. If she were, you would not love her, for she would not be me. Now do you understand?”

Rook closed his eyes. He thought deeply for a long time. Then he nodded, and he looked to her, and he trailed a hand down her neck. “Yes. You’re right.”

“Of course I am right,” she said. “I am always right.” But she had to choke back tears. “Now. Tomorrow we shall be busy making preparations, no doubt. And who knows what will come thereafter. So let us make this a night we shall not forget, and stop with so much talk.”

He pinned her down beneath him on the mattress. And he opened his mouth, as if to say something, but he then he decided to stop with so much talk, and he showed her his love instead.