“I can sleep better on my wafer-thin pallet with my holey blanket in the chill of a Dellish winter knowing this,” Joseph sneered.

“I think with that, we will be done,” Tor decided, pushing from the wall.

Apollo rose.

As they made their way to the door, Joseph’s voice came at them, so they turned.

“It was for faith,” he said dejectedly. “I thought I was serving the gods.”

“When your gods tell you to rape and murder and bend people to your will,” Tor began. “It is time to find new gods.”

And with that, he and his friend walked out.

Sir Alfie Henriksson

The King’s Informal Study, Birchlire Castle, Notting Thicket

WODELL

“I’ll dispatch trackers to find Jell immediately and send word to True,” Alfie said on a sigh.

The sigh was of annoyance.

And relief.

This part was done.

The Rising dismantled.

Now it was just war in Airen.

And the Beast.

Weighty circumstances.

But at least one issue was settled.

“With this concluded,” Tor started, “we should be away to Sky Bay.”

Alfie nodded.

“Go knowing you will be missed,” he said with feeling, for they would. Good men he considered friends. “And it is True who will decide how Wodell will thank you for your efforts. But knowing him, I will advise you, he is generous. So be certain to keep a hold empty on your ship, for he will fill it with wool and pewter for your return journey home.”

“Personally, I was just glad for the adventure. Peace and harmony was getting boring,” Tor muttered.

Alfie did not know if he jested, though he did see Apollo stare at his friend as if he were mad, so for both reasons, he did not attempt to stop his laugh.

Both men stood and said their goodbyes, these consisting of two variations of, “We shall see you at supper.”

They then left.

Alfie did not waste time writing the orders, nor the message for the raven to True.

He then called his corporal to deal with these missives with haste.

After the corporal had left the study, he put his hands to the locks on the wheels of his new chair. He unlocked them, shifted it back, relocked it, reached for his sticks and took them up.

He pulled himself out of the chair and moved to another one, this by the fire.

He eased himself down, set his eyes to the blaze and stared at it.

He had no idea how long he sat there before he heard the knock with the immediate sound of the opening of the latch, thus he didn’t bother even to begin to call out.

He heard the door open, close, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bronagh sit in the chair at an angle to the side of his.

She didn’t say anything for long moments.

She broke their silence, stating, “It is getting late, Alfie.”