“I don’t think this is going to work, Kenneth,” Cassia said as yet another door was slammed in their face.

  The two of them had gotten out of the sewers after some minor difficulties, but the knight’s plan to call on the hospitality of the nobles in the city had fallen flat on its face. Approaching the main entrance into the richest section of the city had resulted in them being chased by the guards. When they finally managed to get in through a side entrance and attempted to approach the ‘service’ door of one of the many manors scattered across the Wintertide-most side of the city, having it slammed in their face was the politest reaction they’d gotten.

  Early morning sun was starting to shine down on the streets as Sir Kenneth slumped against the alley wall. He was in considerable pain from his broken arm and the repeated rejections had injured his ego more than getting kicked around an inn’s floor. The earlier steel in his spirit he’d summoned had evaporated under the scathing glare of a series of butlers and maids who had seen his disheveled appearance and found him ‘unsuitable’.

  “Well what’s this then, two vagabonds skulking around the halls of the gentry?” a voice spoke up from the end of the alley. Cassia and Sir Kenneth looked over to who was speaking. A pair of knights were standing at the end of the alleyway. Both looked rather young, perhaps even younger than Kenneth himself.

  One was exceedingly tall and rake thin. The doublet he wore was a soft satin blue with golden stitching worked into the seams. A crest in the shape of three crossed blades rested just over his heart. Long black hair tied in a braid hung down the left side of his head next to his pale skin.

  The other was short and a little pudgy looking. Someone had apparently given him the unfortunate advice to grow a beard at his current age, which resulted in a scraggly collection of hairs precariously perched on his chin. The mass of blond curls that fell to his shoulders could only do so much to make up for it. His burgundy colored knee length tunic had a tabard over the top of it with alternating black and white stripes. Another crest, with a scythe emblazoned on a shield, sat over his sternum.

  It was the pudgy looking knight that had spoken. His face was just a bit too flat to be considered ‘handsome’. That along with the inadequate beard hairs on his chin reminded Cassia of a boar. She had to fight to restrain the sudden smirk that rose to her lips, which made the pudgy knight squint angrily at her.

  Thankfully his eyes landed on the crest on Sir Kenneth’s own tabard and lit up in recognition.

  “Or perhaps not Bernard,” He said to his much taller companion. “That one is wearing the crest of Baron Reimse. Do you think he’s an unloved page begging for scraps?”

  Sir Kenneth’s frayed temper snapped at the casual insult. He stood to his feet from where he’d been leaning against the wall and marched over towards the porcine brat.

  “You may call me many names, BOY,” he growled. “But you show yourself to be of supremely low breeding to dare insult the grace of my Baron. Withdraw your remark immediately or I’ll be showing you which of us is the ‘page’.”

  Cassia moved in behind Sir Kenneth as he seemed to loom over the top of the younger knight. The brat had immediately started to back pedal and sweat when Kenneth charged towards him. Cassia was more worried about his tall companion ‘Bernard’, who moved to block Kenneth’s path. One of the tall youth’s hands rested on the short blade hanging at his waist.

  Before things could get fully out of hand, a strong voice boomed from down the street.

  “Geoffrey, are you bothering the working folk again?” Yet another knight strolled into view a moment later. Unlike the two youths, he was armored in a simple but sturdy set of chainmail that hung to his thighs. A steel skullcap sat on top of his head, showing the same crest as the pudgy knight ‘Geoffrey’. When he saw the stand off between the youths, Kenneth, and Cassia, his face grew grim.

  “I told you not to pick fights!” the older man growled in irritation. His hand reached out and firmly pulled Geoffrey away from the alley. In the process, his eyes also landed on Sir Kenneth’s tabard and crest. He took a moment to examine the young man’s condition with a grimace. “And with a fellow knight too, who looks like he’s been mugged.”

  “That’s right, er, your lordship,” Cassia said as she placed her hands on Kenneth’s shoulders to restrain him. “We are visiting the city on pilgrimage, but we’ve… suffered great misfortune, as you can see. I am Cassia of Reimse, and this is Sir Kenneth, also of Reimse.”

  “Bernard, hand off the bloody sword,” the older man ordered firmly. “Attacking a fellow knight on pilgrimage will have that fresh crest of yours stripped off so fast you’ll lose skin off your chest in the process.” Reluctantly, the tall youth let go of his blade’s hilt and backed away. “As for you, Geoffrey, I’d recommend you keep your mouth firmly shut until I tell you otherwise.”

  Geoffrey muttered under his breath, but flinched when the older knight glared at him and went quiet.

  “My name is Sir Jaime of House Bléchamp,” the knight declared formally. “These two are my former squires. They are Sirs Geoffrey, also of House Bléchamp, and Bernard of House de Viéu-Guer. As fate would have it, these two twits are both on their first pilgrimage and are supposed to be minding their manners.” Sir Jaime’s scathing tone made both youths wilt like flowers left in the sun.

  “I thank you for your wisdom and manners, Sir Jaime,” Sir Kenneth said once he’d taken a breath to calm himself. “As my retainer has said, I am Sir Kenneth of Reimse, though not of the House proper.” Sir Jaime raised his eyebrow at that, but didn’t interrupt.

  “When we entered the city,” Sir Kenneth continued. “-we did it in the company of one we believed to be a friend. Instead, they were a vile fiend who brought criminals into our place of rest and robbed us while we slept. I’d like to say that I accounted well for myself, but as you can see, I uh… got the shite kicked out of me. As my mentor Sir Raban would say.”

  “You studied under Raban the Flesher?” Sir Jaime said in surprise. “The one from the Imperial Regiments? To think that man was made a knight…” He shook his head softly. “I’d heard he’d crossed over the Cloudshears. Your Baron Reimse must have high hopes for you, young knight. As for you, young master-” This was directed at Geoffrey. “-you’re lucky that Sir Kenneth here didn’t challenge you to a duel. Even half dead, I wouldn’t fight anyone taught by Raban if I could help it.”

  “I hate to interrupt, good Sir,” Cassia spoke up. “But could we prevail on your kindness to take my knight to a healer? I’ve done my best, but his arm is badly broken.”

  Sir Jaime leaned forward to inspect the splint. “It’s a wonder you’re walking around, Sir Kenneth,” he said after a moment. “That’s to be expected from any former squire of Raban’s. Come along, we’ll get you to a healer straight away. … And then a hot meal, a bath, and a fresh set of clothes for you both. I’m sorry to say that you smell like you were dragged through a sewer.”

  “Would you be surprised if I told you, you were right?” Sir Kenneth replied wearily.

  “Thank you, that’ll be all,” Cassia said once she’d taken the basket that the new Inn’s servant girl had offered her. This inn was located just outside the ‘noble’ quarter of the city and was considerably safer than the last place they’d tried to stay.

  Sir Jaime was as good as his word and had brought them both back to where he and his former squires were staying. While a healer was sought for Sir Kenneth, a hot bath had been drawn for Cassia's benefit. Sir Kenneth would be able to get clean once his arm was seen to. Their clothes were a near total loss, but Cassia had been able to convince the Inn’s staff to at least try to save her cloak and Sir Kenneth’s tabard.

  Now that she was freshly bathed and safe, Cassia took a moment to focus on the gemstone embedded in her chest. She could feel the connection to Sanguine was less muted than it had been before. It only took a bit of concentration to send him a signal. She was frustrated and more than a little scared without him and wanted to know why he had not come to rescue them yet.

  The response she got back was a mixture of emotions and senses. Sanguine felt elation when she reached out to him along with regret. Something that made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck followed. The next couple of bits were confusing, as she suddenly felt the sensation of water across her skin followed by the smell of the sewers. Last was a tickle to the ends of her ears which made her want to rub them.

  “... Oh! He’s found Visk,” Cassia whispered to herself. She focused on the physical movement of swimming through water and walking around the city, then sent it back to him. She got an acknowledgment in return, along with a scent of herbs and acidity that reminded her of Edith’s potions. “The Alchemist?”

  She had many questions, but this means of communication had its limits. Cassia sent Sanguine her desire for them to be by each other’s side. He responded immediately to agree, with an impression of old air and tight spaces. As best as she could guess, her dragon and Visk had finished their business and were working their way across the city through the tunnels underground.

  ‘We need to find a way to meet each other somewhere. I could ask Sir Jaime… but after what Kenneth told him about Visk, that could end poorly,’ Cassia thought to herself. While she puzzled over what to do, she brushed out her brunette hair with a brush the serving girl had provided. To her surprise, the roots were starting to change color to an auburn hue. The few stray hairs that came out with the brush showed the difference. Her hair was also more durable than she remembered. She had to fight to get the comb through the tougher knots in her hair.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  Without any better options, she sent Sanguine an impression of patience and needing to wait to meet. He felt reluctant, but ultimately agreed. The last thing he sent was the complex feeling of standing on top of somewhere very high. Cassia’s eyes turned to look out the nearest window and spotted the looming shape of a Wizard Tower.

  “Does he mean we should head for a Tower, or that he is looking for one? Darn it,” she hissed quietly.

  A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. The serving girl told her through the closed door that Sir Kenneth had returned from the Healer and would need use of the bath. Cassia gave a quiet sigh and called back to wait just a moment. She quickly got dressed in the clothing which had been provided for her. Wearing a dress was… certainly different than she was used to, but she didn’t mind the gentle green color of the clothing she’d been provided.

  What was more problematic was that she’d only been provided with a simple binding to restrain her chest. After years running around in the forest with her chest tied down, it was disorienting to suddenly have to account for the extra mass in her way. Idly, she wondered what Sanguine would think of her when they reunited.

  “Oh who am I kidding,” she muttered as she pulled on the soft shoes that came with the dress. She already missed her hunting boots. “The silly dragon won’t even notice.”

  ○ ○ ○

  “Ah, so your retainer can look like a refined lady after all- OUCH!” Sir Geoffrey said as Cassia entered the parlor where the knights were waiting. Sir Jaime had reached over and smacked the brat on the back of his head. The older man shook his head and smiled apologetically at Cassia.

  “Forgive me, young lady,” Sir Jaime said with a formal tone. “I’ve spent a little too much time teaching these two how to fight, rather than courtly manners. I’ll have to correct that.”

  Cassia was a bit confused as to why the man was suddenly acting so cordially. He’d been polite but distant before. As she looked over at Sir Kenneth, she could see that he was also staring at her in mild shock. His mouth hung open slightly. Perhaps he’d been given some medicine by the healer which had addled his wits. It also looked like he’d been cleaned up a bit, though he still needed a bath.

  “The water is still warm… good sir,” She said, then remembered to add on the title a bit too late. “If you don’t dilly-dally, you should still find it quite comfortable.”

  “Oh, erm, yes, thanks!” Sir Kenneth said in a jumble as he rose from the stool where he’d been sitting. Cassia could see that one of the servants had laid a rough cloth over the seat cushion so that the knight wouldn’t get it dirty.

  ‘All of the chairs have cushions here. I’ve never heard of such a thing,’ she thought to herself as the younger knight named Bernard helped support Sir Kenneth by his good arm. The pair of them made their way out of the room and towards where the bathing tub waited. Cassia couldn’t help but notice that Sir Bernard’s eyes lingered on her as he left.

  With nothing better to do, Cassia walked over to a plush couch and sat down. The long skirt felt unusual against her legs as she walked. She couldn’t see where her feet were going to land. A vague memory of how her mother sat when she was a young girl floated into her mind. With as much care as she could, she clumsily swept her skirt with her arm as she sat down so that it wouldn’t bunch up on the seat.

  She was a little surprised when the porky-brat set a cup on a small plate in front of her. The steaming liquid in it smelled like tea. When she delicately picked up the cup by its thin handle, she was surprised at how light and fragile it felt. She needed to take great care not to snap it between her fingers. Her newfound strength hadn’t been a problem out in the wilderness, but in this environment she’d need to constantly watch herself to not damage anything.

  “I, uhm, I owe you an apology my lady,” the porky-boy said once Cassia had raised the cup to her lips and taken a sip. “I had taken you as a… ahem, woman of low standing. Your knight, Sir Kenneth, was very… pointed, in correcting that mistake.”

  Cassia raised one scarred eyebrow and said nothing, waiting for someone to say something that would actually clarify whatever fat lie Sir Kenneth had told them.

  “What the lad means,” Sir Jaime jumped in right on time. “Is that he needs to remember that important people sometimes travel incognito.” Cassia took another sip of tea and hummed to herself. “That is to say, we truly meant no offense to your ladyship or your ‘intended’. We mistook you for a serf, due to the efficacy of your disguise.”

  Cassia fully intended to slap Sir Kenneth repeatedly until he learned not to keep telling lies to the people they met. While it was well and good to have these knights treat her better, making them think she was some kind of highborn lady was a step too far. She didn’t have the slightest idea of how to act like a noble!

  “Hmm. Well if that’s what Sir Kenneth has chosen to reveal, it seems that he trusts your judgment,” She said casually before using the tea to buy time and collect her thoughts. “He’s a good man, but I worry about his health. The shock of being betrayed shook him terribly.”

  Internally, she was desperately flipping through her mental library to try and remember how the princesses and nobles in her story books talked. Surely they couldn’t all be wrong, right?

  “Yes, he did mention that,” Sir Jaime said sadly. “I met Baron Reimse once, during a tourney. He struck me as a rather stern and unforgiving man, but if he’s knighted someone like Raban… perhaps he has softened in the years since. It’s just a shame that the guide he hired for your pilgrimage turned out to be a criminal.”

  Finally they were back on familiar territory.

  “Yes, well, Visk… had a way of worming their way into people’s good graces,” Cassia said. Some of the testiness in her tone carried through. It appeared the dissatisfaction rang true in Sir Jaime’s ears, who hummed knowingly. “I never imagined that they would be such a… well known bandit in this region. They are associated with… a well known villain locally?”

  “The Villain of the Viscount!” Sir Geoffrey said eagerly. He’d hovered at the edge of the conversation, wary of drawing Sir Jaime’s ire again. “The brigand who defiled the Viscount’s daughter and robbed their manor-” Sir Jaime’s hand connected with the back of the porky-brat’s head and sent him to the floor.

  “DO NOT belabor the young lady’s ears with such sordid details,” Sir Jaime said harshly. He directed his attention to Cassia with a sorrowful grin. “You really must forgive my nephew, my lady. His mother had doted on him a bit too much and he should know better-” The knight kicked Geoffrey in the thigh softly. “-than to keep running his mouth. I assure you that I’ll be correcting this at the earliest possible opportunity.”

  Cassia almost felt bad for the idiot on the floor, who cowered under his uncle’s glare. She only belatedly noticed that she’d accidentally broken the handle of the tea cup. As she watched, the small cut that a sharp edge had placed on her finger sealed up like it had never been there. She hid the finger in the palm of her hand.

  “I must apologize, Sir Knight. I’m afraid that gave me a bit of a fright,” She said awkwardly. ‘Gods, this is exhausting,’ Cassia thought. ‘How could anyone stand talking like this all day?’ “I appear to have made a mess. Could I bother you for another cup?”

  This led to Sir Jaime apologizing profusely and further chastising Geoffrey. Rather than listen to it further, Cassia rose from her seat and wandered over to a window so that she could look out over the city. In the distance, Wizard towers rose like spears. The nobility apparently kept the Wizards at arm’s length wherever possible.

  ‘Now how am I going to sneak away to meet with Sanguine?’ she thought silently.

  “How are we going to meet up with Cassia and the knight?” I asked Visk quietly.

  We were crouched in what might charitably be called a storage room. To be honest, it was much more accurate to call it a trash heap. Someone in the distant past had hurled a large number of crates down through a hatch in the ceiling and never came back for them. Whatever the contents had been, they were long rotted away.

  “Couldn’t tell you Boss,” Visk said grumpily.

  They’d finally managed to rinse most of the filth off of their body in a shallow pool we’d found near one of the underground aqueducts. I had been told in no uncertain terms to not open my eyes no matter what, until I was given permission. They had originally wanted me to leave the room, but I’d flatly refused. I wasn’t letting Visk out of my sight again.

  Visk’s sour mood was a result of the tight confines we’d needed to travel through. The section of the undercity that Mortimer the Alchemist had told us to travel through left just enough room for me to crawl through. There was absolutely no way that Visk could ride on my back, which they had been looking forward to after their bath.

  ‘That’s the second person who became clingy after I told them they were Mine,’ I reflected. ‘I don’t mind the affection, but I could do without the moodiness right now.’

  I pressed my snout up against Visk’s neck and gave a light chuff. The elf’s ears shot towards the ceiling. They danced away from me slightly and crossed their arms. An old cloak Mortimer the Alchemist didn’t need any more sat on their shoulders. It was allegedly water proof and very durable, but it smelled strongly of old herbs.

  “Stop it Boss…,” Visk said with no real commitment behind their words. “Not right now. … I guess you’re right though, I need to stop moping. At least we know they’re both safe. Does that mean your deal with your sister is off?”

  I thought about it for a few seconds. “Probably not. Her people could still try and recapture them, not to mention you. I’m also fairly certain oaths between dragons aren’t easy to escape from. It’s better to not risk any potential Consequences by breaking it.”

  “That’s true…” Visk rubbed at the tip of their ear and stepped closer to me to idly pat my snout with their free hand. “We should be relatively close to the ‘Tower of Baedain’ according to our Alchemist friend’s directions. I started seeing that sigil on some of the stonework a few rooms back.”

  “My connection with Cassia feels like she’s in a different direction than we’re headed,” I said after concentrating on it for a moment. “We could try to find Magnus in the tower, then make a run for it and grab them on the way out…” I lifted my head and started sniffing at the air. Something familiar was drifting across my nostrils.

  “Sneaking into a Wizard Tower has got to be a terrible idea, even for us,” Visk said with a hum. “We’re better off scouting from out- Do you smell something Boss?”

  “Yes,” I said with a low rumble as I focused. My amber eyes narrowed in anger. “I can smell the Wizard… I think Magnus is with him, but something’s wrong. His scent is… muted. It feels hollow. They are nearby.”

  “Huh. Well lets find the nearest stairs up and find out what’s happening Boss,” Visk replied with a worried grimace. “It’ll be nice to get out of these tunnels for a bit.”