The [Paladin] hesitated.

“That is what he said. He told me many of your secrets are your own. So I come to you to ask them.”

Cara sighed.

“Why?”

Arteis looked at her strangely.

“Because it may have to do with why so few of us returned. I searched for the Gravewarden after we returned. He was not there. I went to his grave, and his remains are there. But he is gone. Nor do I hope to look for the other ghosts. Afiele’s tomb contains this entire region’s dead—or it used to be that every person, from what you now call Ovela to Afiele, would be buried there, until it was closed. Yet two hundred remain.”

“Two hundred ghosts. How many were there?”

The [Paladin]’s eyes glinted.

“Countless thousands. An army pledged to safeguard Afiele in its darkest hour. Or Noelictus, should enemies cross our borders. Never aught else. Before I died, the dead went to war—never again. Never shall they interfere or rule the living, so it was pledged. Yet in our slumber, we have failed to safeguard Afiele. So.”

She spread her hands simply.

“I must choose. I am one of those that lead us, for we have no leader.”

The young woman felt a lump in her throat.

“What will you do, then?”

Arteis’ eyes were sharp, and Cara saw the same steel that Grishen possessed.

“Exactly what I told my descendant, these two [Earls], the [General] of Noelictus, and what I swore before all and sundry. Serve Afiele’s heirs. No more, no less. I will bow to no one save perhaps whomever rules Noelictus—but my will is for Afiele alone. That is my penance. So say us all.”

Cara exhaled slowly and nodded.

“I see. In that case—I will help you. I mean, tell you whatever you want. But not now. Tomorrow?”

She looked around, and her face clouded. Arteis nodded.

“Of course. ‘Twas unchivalrous of me to disturb you, but I wished to be plain. Please do not speak to those folk—”

She nodded at the camps.

“—of our secrets.”

“Of course.”

Cara watched Arteis pace back towards the gathering. She realized that the ghosts were standing in a ring around the living people of Afiele. And she wondered if the others might have come closer had they not…insisted.

She looked around. She was Cara…but she was also Sidheag, to those who knew her name. And someone did know her name, now.

Ser Dalius had watched the entire exchange. He stepped forwards.

“Another time, I might ask you to dance with me.”

He nodded towards an open square. Sidheag almost laughed. Almost.

“You can dance without freezing off my hands? Or dance at all?”

He smiled ruefully.