Without conscious thought； Calard found himself in a small annex off the western wing； where the
castle’s shrine to the Lady was located。 No divine power had protected it from the fire that had clearly
ravaged the keep； and only a few jagged shards remained of its once beautiful stained…glass windows。
Something caught his eye； and Calard sheathed his sword and knelt before the fire…blackened altar。
Half…buried amongst the rubble； a small statue of the Lady remained intact； lying on its side。 It was
covered in soot and chipped； but Calard picked it up and placed it reverently upon the altar。 Closing his
eyes； he began to pray。
There was noise outside and Calard was instantly on his feet； sword drawn。 Moving silently and
keeping to the shadows； he ghosted back through the ruined hall。
‘Master？’ called a voice。
‘Silence； fool；’ Calard hissed； stepping from the concealing darkness of the ruined keep。
‘What happened here； master？’ said Chlod。 He half…climbed； half…fell from the saddle； and tied his
mule to the post alongside Calard’s steed。
Calard’s eyes were locked on the ground at the peasant’s feet。
‘Stand still；’ he ordered。
‘What？’ said Chlod； turning in Calard’s direction。
‘Be still！ Stop moving；’ said Calard； and the peasant froze。 Calard moved forward； studying the
ground intently。 There were prints in the mud that he had not noticed earlier。 ‘Back away over there；’ he
said； gesturing。
‘Shall I prepare you some food； master？’ said Chlod； doing as he was bid。
‘Fine； but no fire；’ said Calard； not looking up。 ‘It would be seen for miles around。’
Careful not disturb the tracks； Calard crouched and studied them intently。 They were difficult to read；
for the prints were old and crossed over themselves time and again。 Nevertheless； after several minutes
Calard had identified the tracks of nine separate individuals and their steeds。 He judged that they had
made camp here a week ago； perhaps two。
His eyes narrowed when he came across one particularly clear hoof…print。 The depth of the track
indicated a horse heavily burdened； and the mark of its shoe was clear。 In the centre of the imprint was
the blacksmith’s mark。 Calard recognised the heraldic device instantly。
‘Sangasse；’ Calard spat。
Standing； Calard marched towards his waiting warhorse； and called for Chlod to make ready to
depart。
‘Where do we go； master？’ said the peasant as he hurriedly began packing up his pots。
‘To visit an old neighbour；’ said Calard； his voice filled with rage。
II
‘MALORIC！’
The sky glowed with pre…dawn light。 The peasants of Sangasse had been awake for hours； working
the muddy fields。 Many of them had halted their work as Calard had passed by； leaning on hoes and
muttering under their breath。 Calard had ignored them； his head held high and his face a grim mask。
Though they were neighbours； no knight of Garamont had set foot on Sangasse lands for over six
generations without blood being spilt。 The border between the two powerful noble families had long been
disputed； changing hands countless times over the centuries。 As Calard had ridden towards the border；
his anger had deepened； for it was clear that the Sangasse family had claimed much of Garamont’s land
in his absence。 By the time he arrived outside the gates of Castle Sangasse； a formidable bastion built
atop a natural rocky bluff； his rage was incandescent。
‘Maloric！’ he bellowed again； wheeling his warhorse beneath him。
Nervous men…at…arms looked down from the castle walls at him。 All of them were garbed in tabards
bearing the heraldry of Maloric； the Earl of Sangasse。 Maloric and Calard were of a similar age and had
a long history of antagonism。 Since childhood they had been raised to loathe one another； and even
though they had fought side by side on dozens of occasions； even going so far as saving each other’s lives
on the field of battle； they could never be anything but rivals。
Chlod licked his lips。 Hundreds of bowmen were stationed along the walls； and a pair of mighty
trebuchets were positioned atop the gatehouse。 Scores of men…at…arms barred the way； shields locked
together。 Calard was undaunted； refusing to be intimidated by mere peasants。
‘Show yourself； Maloric！’ he shouted。 ‘Calard； Castellan of Garamont demands it！’
At last； a young knight appeared atop the gatehouse。 His hair was dishevelled and he was still
blinking the sleep out of his eyes。 Calard did not recognise him。
‘What is it you seek here； Garamont？’ called the knight。
‘Fetch your master； and be quick about it；’ shouted Calard。 ‘I will not bandy words with you or any
of Maloric’s lackeys。’
Chlod winced as the knight’s face reddened and several archers nocked arrows to strings。
‘Speak to me in such a tone again； Garamont； and you will be cut down where you stand；’ shouted
back the knight。 ‘Speak your piece quickly； or take your leave！’
‘I am a Questing Knight of the Lady；’ shouted Calard。 ‘Any man who dares loose an arrow in my
direction will be cursed by the goddess； as shall you if you give the order。 Now be gone from my sight； I
am done talking to you。 I will speak to Maloric； and no one else。 Fetch him from his bed if sleeping past
dawn is his habit。’
His face flushed； the knight turned and disappeared from sight。
For long minutes； Calard and Chlod waited while men…at…arms and peasant bowmen shuffled their
feet awkwardly。 Chlod tried to shrink； making himself as inconspicuous as possible； while Calard paced
back and forth before the gatehouse； his mount snorting and stamping its hooves in agitation。
Finally； the ranks of the men…at…arms in front parted； and an elderly knight appeared； his expression
cold。 This knight Calard recognised； though he could not recall his name。 The knight bowed curtly； just
low enough not to be openly discourteous。
‘The Earl of Sangasse and his lady bid you welcome； Calard of Garamont；’ said the knight。 ‘My lord
is currently sitting for breakfast； and asks that you join him。’
Calard dismounted； and a peasant ran forwards to take his reins。
‘Stay with the horses；’ he said to Chlod； before turning back towards the knight of Sangasse。
‘Lead on；’ said Calard。
The knight nodded； and turned on his heel； leading the way into Castle Sangasse。
‘CALARD； WHAT A pleasant surprise；’ said Maloric with a sardonic half…smile。 ‘I thought you were dead。
’
The earl was a lean man in his early thirties； handsome in an angular； sharp…featured way。 His hair
was pale and he sported a slender goatee beard。 His clothes were finely made； and edged in silver。 A
long table laid with a spread fit for the king himself was before him。 The rich aromas made Calard’s
stomach knot； and he began to salivate despite himself； it had been weeks since he had eaten a meal not
prepared by his manservant Chlod； who was a poor cook at best。
‘Sorry to disappoint； Maloric；’ said Calard； dragging his gaze from the food on display。
The Earl of Sangasse did not rise from his high…backed seat – a subtle insult that Calard did not fail to
notice – and he looked Calard up and down。
‘My； my； you are quite a sight；’ said Maloric。 ‘And what a stink！ When was the last time you
washed？’
‘One does not have much time for such luxuries aloric。’
‘Of course。 I take it that you have still not yet been successful。 It has been what； five years？’
‘Six。’
‘Six years；’ said Maloric； taking a swig of wine。 ‘How time flies。 Please； sit。 No wait； I will send for a
blanket。 No offence； of course； but these chairs were imported from Cathay at not inconsiderable cost。’
‘I will stand； thank you；’ said Calard； coldly。
‘As you wish；’ said Maloric； shrugging。 He gestured towards the food on the table。 ‘Eat。 Drink。 You
look half…starved。’
‘I did not come here to eat your food； nor to trade insults； Sangasse；’ said Calard。
‘Oh？’ said Maloric。 ‘Then to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure？’
‘I have returned home to find my castle in ruin；’ said Calard； ‘and to suffer the insult of seeing
Sangasse peasants tilling Garamont land。 I have seen no sign of even one of my vassal knights； nor my
appointed heir Orlando or his guardian； Baron Montcadas。 I come here to call you to account for these
transgressions； Maloric； and I swear by all that I hold holy that if you have done harm to my household； I
will kill you。’
Holding Calard’s gaze； Maloric reached out and plucked a shelled quail’s egg from a silver plate。 He
popped it between his teeth and washed it down with another swig from his ornate goblet。
‘Are you done？’ said Maloric； dabbing at his lips with a silk napkin。
‘Long has Sangasse looked upon Garamont lands with envious eyes。 I should have known that you
would make a play for them in my absence；’ said Calard。 ‘Did you murder Orlando with your own
blade； Maloric； or did you have one of your knights do it for you？’
‘I am no murderer of children； and I would be well within my rights to demand justice for such an
insult； offered in my own hall no less。 However； you are clearly aggrieved and not in full control of
yourself。 What god did your family offend； Calard； to see it suffer so？ Truly your bloodline is cursed。’
‘Do not speak of my family； Sangass