A page’s work. And he does it with honor.

“You are soon away?” Rosheen asked as she approached.

The squire looked at her and nodded as he continued with the ropes.

“You will enjoy the gnome’s company,” she told him. “He is easy to rile.”

“Sounds like merry sport,” Flyn replied, his tone not matching his words.

I only remind him.

“Well,” she said. “I will leave you to it.”

She turned to fly away.

“My lady,” Flyn’s words stopped her, and she looked back. The squire bowed low. “It was my privilege.”

She gave him a wink.

Sir Corc knelt inside the tent, holding his naked sword in front of him.

Keeping the vigil.

Rosheen slipped past the closed flap and into the dark space. The body lay covered, wrapped in crimson and silver, the colors of the Valiant Spur. She waited patiently. Sir Corc stood at last and turned to face her.

“Did you know?” she asked bluntly.

The knight did not hesitate. “No.”

Rosheen let out her breath. She had not known she was holding it.

“All his life, I fought to keep him free of the gruagach,” Sir Corc said. “And eventually they succeeded in penetrating even the Roost. It was no longer safe, so I thought it was best if he stayed close to me. Having the most skilled fighter amongst the squires accompany us only increased his protection. Festus Lambkiller wanted him, of that I was certain. And now I know why.

“His mother,” the knight said sadly, “was just a woman that needed my help. She asked me to save her babe.”

He struggled and looked to say more, but remained silent.

Now for the gamble.

“Might I have a moment alone with him?” she asked.

“Certainly,” Sir Corc replied stoutly. “I will help Flyn with the last of the preparations.”

He bowed and stepped outside.

Rosheen flew to the top of the tent where the shadows were darkest. She did not have to wait long. The flap opened and the blond head poked inside, carefully looking before stepping inside. Rosheen did not let her take two steps towards the body.

“I thought you might come.”

Svala looked shocked, her big blue eyes wide and demure.

All harmless innocence.

The girl held up her hands apologetically, speaking quickly and softly in her foreign tongue. She began to back towards the flap.

“You are good,” Rosheen told her. “I do not know how I missed it in Hog’s Wallow.” She looked at her sharply. “Jileen.”

Svala’s meek expression fell and slowly turned into a knowing smile. The straight flaxen locks thickened into dark waves, the long legs giving way to the full hips of the alewife.

“Sharp-eyed piskie,” Jileen complemented her, still smiling.

“You killed Brogan.”

The gruagach’s now sultry eyes rolled casually. “He discovered Kederic’s secret. And troublingly, told it to Swinehelm before I was aware. His death was sloppy and a bit too late.”