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[Kaylor]

---

Kaylor stared after Eclyse, the sound of the closing door an echo of foreboding that reverberated throughout the room long following her departure. She'd spent hours speaking to him of the guilt she bore after having slain an assailant who'd threatened an attack far more treacherous than death, leaving his corpse to rot in the filth of his vulgarity without ever having made confession to anyone regarding the lad's disappearance. It wasn't the killing that had left her guilt-ridden, for her blade had found its way to his gut in self-defense, but rather the suffering his parents had endured in the wake of her silent safeguard.

Experience had taught him that carrying such remorse was naught but a waste. Were he in the same situation he would find no displeasure in sending these parents to the same hell Eclyse had sent their foul son and simply be done with it, put it behind him. It was his firm belief that every child's behavior was nothing less than the consequence of that of its wellspring. As her instructor in knighthood, however, he could not press his personal prejudices upon her learning, especially now that his soul was so deeply entrenched in a labyrinth of shadows. He would serve his squire far better by suggesting that she search for a way to bring peace to her heart through a quest for honourable dissolution. Thus not without reluctance in great measure, he'd sent her back to the place that yet held her conscience its captive, the potentially perilous situation that held her fate in the grasp of its conclusion.
_________________
*Even if you be otherwise perfect, you fail without humility. ~ The Talmud*

[Eclyse Christian]

---

Hawthorne’s Valley. Eclyse paused at the rustic, hand-painted wooden sign. She had not been here in three years. The wood had succumbed to the same slender fingers of rot and decay that had touched the town at its fringe and putrefied it from the outside in. Eclyse urged her steed forward, feeling as though he waded through her dread even as she did, his hooves stirring it like the dust.

Every building lay in some state of decay, even the ones still in use. She stopped at Greystone Road and glanced sidelong toward the end of the dusty path. An old two-story fieldstone house stood there with a broad and inviting front porch. An older woman, slumped like the roofline of the house beneath the heaviness of an early snow, swept the front porch slowly, pausing occasionally to look off to the east before returning to her chore. Eclyse followed her gaze to the east and wondered if she looked for him after all these years. No use, Aida. You’ll never see him coming over that ridge. You’ll never see him coming home to you.

Quietly, Eclyse reigned her steed toward the inn to rent a room for the night. The innkeeper gawked at her, seemingly confounded. She must look so oddly out of place in a place like Hawthorne’s Valley nowadays. She stood straight, held her head high. She moved with purpose, poise, and dignity. She had learned much from Lord Kaylor. She wondered if sometimes, in a certain slant of light, his grace might shine from her own eyes.

As she retired to her room, the innkeeper called after her. “Dinner, Miss Laughlin?”

Eclyse paused on the stairs, her back still to the innkeeper. “No thank you. I find myself without appetite this evening.” Then she turned again, smiling charmingly to the short, balding gentleman behind a sagging wooden desk. “And please, call me Kaye.”

[Eclyse Christian]

---

Eclyse shut the door quietly behind her. She glanced vacantly around the silent room without taking any of it in. Slowly, she lowered her leather satchel onto the bed and wandered to the window. She pressed her palm and forehead against the windowpane, her breath painting a frosty haze across the glass. A single lonely child zigzagged the dusty street, lighting street lanterns by twilight's fading rays. Eclyse had been alone many times in her life. But never had she felt more alone than she did at this moment.

Through the haze of her breath on the window, Eclyse caught a flicker of light and movement below. Another arrival in the dilapidated inn, no doubt. Eclyse turned away from the radiant cold of the window and tried to concentrate upon the task at hand. She opened her satchel and pulled out a packet of plain parchment stationary, then unwrapped a nondescript paper parcel containing a long quill. Eclyse lit the lantern on the desk and sat down, adding thinning spirits to the half-dried inkwell already sitting beside the lantern. She stirred the ink pot, her expression solemn and resigned, until the ink was thin and smooth again. Then she carefully dipped the quill and lifted it, her hand hovering over the crisp parchment on the desk.

Until this moment, this journey had held a dreamlike quality in her mind. Hazy, as though watched through her breath on the windowpane. A single word scrawled upon this parchment would bring the nightmare to life. What're ye doin' Eclyse? Riskin' everything ye love an' hold dear to make amends fer somethin' ye ne'er did wrong in th' first place? Ye took that boy's life in defense o' your own...

She recalled Kaylor's response to her confession, knowing too well that he would not blame her for turning her back upon this sin, this night, this town. But three years hence, it darkened her memory and haunted her heart. She remembered the longing gaze of old woman sweeping her porch, still watching the ridge, hoping to see her child safely home. Aida, ye deserve t' know. I took yer son. I owe ye some measure o' peace.

And so, without another moment's hesitation, Eclyse began to write her letter. As she scrawled the first halting words, she felt the waiting nightmare draw its first breath as her sigh breathed life into her own darkest fears. What this would set into motion, she could not know.

Dearest Mrs. Dalton,

There are times within our lives when the roads we choose, no matter how well-intentioned, lead to consequences most catastrophic. It is with a heavy heart that I share with you the story of mine.

I give my most heartfelt apologies, though they will never be enough to erase the anguish you must have endured these many months not knowing what fate may have befallen your dear son Bradley.

I have known his fate and whereabouts the entire time, and regret with every fibre of my being that I never shared this knowledge with you. I pray you know that I never meant to cause you pain. I feared for my own safety, were I to give you the knowledge that I have.

This day, I relieve myself of that regret and endeavour to ease your suffering. You will find your son's remains buried a hundred yards beneath Lover's Leap. A single round, flat stone has been placed upon the grave to mark his bones. While I realize that this is the most painful news you could have feared, it is my sincerest hope that this revelation may, in time, bring you closure.

May the gods lavish peace upon your soul this day and every day hereafter. I swear to you no wrongdoing in the death of your child. But I beg your forgiveness for my lack of courage to tell you sooner.

May the Gods Bless You and Keep You in this Dark Hour.

~A Penitent Soul

Eclyse laid the letter beside the lantern to allow the ink to dry. In the interim, there was one last chore that must be done. She donned her heavy black velvet cloak and locked her room behind her. Swiftly, she descended the stairs and stepped out of the waiting shadows of dusk, bound for Lover's Leap.

[Eclyse Christian]

---

The ride to Lover’s Leap was much farther than Eclyse remembered. But then the last time she had made the trip home, she had flown as fast as her horse’s legs could carry her. This night she was more cautious. She traveled only by moonlight, having blown out the cheery lantern with aqua glass that Kaylor had given her. It always brought her such comfort in dark places. But she could not risk being seen, especially with such a memorable item. Her dark tresses spilled from beneath her hooded velvet cloak and she melded with the ebon wood through which her steed carried her. Off the path, where no one would see.

Within the hour, she had reached her destination. A cliff hung precariously, overlooking the night forest. The treetops below clung desperately to a heavy mist that cast them azure in the moonlight. Silhouetted against a cathedral of stars, Eclyse paused at the precipice and peered below. From here, she would have to climb.

Eclyse removed the heavy velvet cloak and hung it carefully over a branch. It fluttered and swayed as the night breeze toyed with and fretted the edges. Cautiously, Eclyse lowered herself over the edge of the cliff and climbed downward until her feet found the slope of the mountainside instead of sheer cliff. With a few shaky steps, she regained her bearing and turned to negotiate the steep slope, half walking, half sliding, until she came to rest at the bottom. Nothing had changed. A large, round, flat stone lay half-buried exactly where she had left it. Beneath it rested the bones of one who’d have defiled her – possibly killed her – given the chance. Eclyse dusted silt and pebbles off the flat stone to make sure it was visible and easily recognizable. It was the least she could do. It would make the city guards’ job easier. As easy as it ever was to seek and find the dead.

“Well, isn’t this convenient?” The man’s voice came from the woods just below.

Eclyse froze, her heart sinking to the depths of her soul. Footsteps crossed from soft leaffall to crumbling and crunching stone. Not a single man, but several. Eclyse lifted her gaze to discover six figures silhouetted against the azure mist of the forest. One of them was a squat, balding man, carrying a sheet of parchment.

“That’s her. That’s definitely her!” The innkeeper pointed accusingly at Eclyse. She rose quickly and attempted a hasty step backward, but found herself stumbling into the arms of another armed guard.

A dagger’s blade to her throat, Eclyse trembled, lifting her hands in surrender. “That’s right, pretty thing,” the guard cooed tauntingly. “You’re not going anywhere.”

[Eclyse Christian]

---

"March!"

The cold and heavy shackles hung heavily on Eclyse's wrists and ankles as she was pressed forward. The point of a cutlass poking the middle of her back sharply reprimanded her each time her pace slowed. Two of the guards had stayed behind to recover the bones of Bradley Dalton, and one had consented to see the innkeeper safely back to his home. The remaining three embarked with Eclyse on a grim parade. A guard flanked her on each side, and one followed behind, quick to remind her of the pace with the tip of his weapon anytime she fell behind or faltered.

Eclyse remained silent as the three led her down a roughly-beaten path that wound through the slumbering woods and back into town. She was determined to hold her head high and remember why she had returned to Hawthorne's Valley in the first place.

"What you think they'll do with this one?" The guard on her left asked.

"Hang 'er, pro'lly. Or shave that proud 'ead off 'er shoulders," the guard on the right replied with a chuckle.

Eclyse shuddered, her eyes closing for a moment, but only a moment, as the point of the cutlass poked the center of her back again and prodded her forward.

The guard on her left glanced sidelong at Eclyse, and for the first time, she made eye contact. His gaze betrayed some hidden question, but instead he turned his gaze again upon the overgrown path and pulled vines out of the way with the blade of his sword.

Two hours of enduring the uncertain silence of an unending parade, and they had come to their destination. A small stone building on the outskirts of the village rose stately in the darkness. Within, at least, the candlelight shining through barred windows promised warmth.

The sheriff met them at the door, looking Eclyse over critically. “Took three o’ ye to bring this one in, did it? Dangerous sort? Bites?” He laughed. “Bring ‘er in, we’ll sort this out in the mornin’.”

A wave of heat washed over Eclyse as she was led through the door, and for the first time this night, she was thankful. A crackling fire warmed the tiny office.
“Name, Miss?” The sheriff queried, his back turned to her as he scribbled notes on a sheet of parchment. Beside it lay the letter she had written and left in her room at the inn.

“Kaye. Laughlin.” Eclyse inched toward the stone fireplace that crackled merrily near the cell door.

“Very well, Miss Laughlin. Got any family, any friends you want to contact? A barrister perhaps?”

Eclyse shook her head as he turned to her for her answer.

“Fair enough. Lock ‘er in, Leidel. Then let’s all get some sleep.”

The guard who had walked at her left elbow moved to open the cell, and Eclyse stepped inside. Again, his gaze questioned her. Her face was an emotionless mask. Mostly because, by now, she was numb. The whole night had gone horribly wrong, and she knew she hadn’t begun to feel the worst of it.

Then, with a sound of utter finality, the cell door was locked with a loud clink. The guard the Sheriff had called Leidel pulled out a flask of water from his belt and passed it through the bars to Eclyse. “Get some rest, Aye?”

Eclyse made no move to respond. She took the flask from him and watched as he turned on his heel and left her alone with her thoughts.

[Kaylor]

---

Kaylor drained the glass of scotch and set it on the table, sending a glance of revulsion toward the looking glass as it caught the fluid motion of his passing reflection. He stopped mid-stride, taken aback by what he saw. Firelight from the hearth glimmered orange red, the only light in the room. It illuminated his face, casting the prominent cheekbones into high relief, flickering with waltzing points of midnight in his eyes. He drew a deep breath and stepped closer, placing a gauntleted finger against the mirror's smooth surface and tracing the outline of hard set features barely recognizable to him as his own. There was no reality, no future, no past - only the ever increasing torrent of chaos, the pre-destined realization of villainy. A strange trembling triumph sustained him in the ebon tumult nonetheless. Although no longer the blonde-haired, blue-eyed lad who'd cleaved to the virtues enveloped in the blind innocence of youth, he held the controlling reins of the residing darkness. That knowledge was balm, a sweet savage serenity.

Tension beaded his brow, the muscles of his arms and chest were rigid in restraint, etched in shadow and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. Eclyse had been gone far too long. How long could it possibly take to make her peace with the dead and his parents? If she'd not yet returned by dawn on the morrow he would set out in search of her.

. . . But where?
_________________
*Even if you be otherwise perfect, you fail without humility. ~ The Talmud*

[Eclyse Christian]

---

The following is the final entry in a green, leatherbound journal left lying on the table on the first floor of Eclyse's home...

This morning I take my leave from my new home, from my Knight, from the valley with which I've fallen in love, in hopes of removing the shadows from my soul. There will come new shadows. This much is not only certain, but foretold. Sir Kaylor has changed more every day, and I wonder sometimes if there will still be a place for me when his transformation is complete. For now, I can only keep my unfaltering faith in him. And so I prepare myself to become a knight, in hopes that someday I will be worthy of the faith he and my new family have placed in me. I trust my soul to find its way, if I can find the courage and discipline to become that which I am meant to be.

My quest now delivers me again unto Hawthorne’s Valley. I have not returned in the three years since that night. I feel no desire to make amends for what I have taken, only to bring closure to those from whom I took it. I do not return slinking as the child who has done wrong, but with my head held high, as one who knows she is doing what is right. What is best. What is honourable. I leave this journal behind so that, should my story take a sharp wrong turn, the one who finds it might know where I have gone, and why. It is my sincerest hope that this page may be torn from the journal upon my return and burned.

In the interim, I whisper songs and prayers unto the God of my Knight and ask for guidance and protection as I seek absolution and redemption. I hope that one such as myself may be heard and found worthy by One such as He.

Anon, I go.

[Eclyse Christian]

---

"Who d'ye watch for, M'Lady?"

The question roused her from her sombre vigil. Eclyse rested her arm in the windowsill of the tiny barred window of her cell, and rested her cheek upon her arm, her gaze unwavering. She spoke softly, but did not turn to face her guard.

"No one, Sir."

Leidel set a plate of food on the stone floor and slid it under the bars. "It's been two days. Ye ne'er say more than two words, and you've hardly eaten a thing. Surely there's a better way to put this t' rest, Miss Laughlin."

"Please, call me Kaye." Eclyse finally turned to face him. She cast a downward glance at the plate. As good as the food smelled, nerves wrung her stomach to the point of nausea. "Thank ye Sir, I'll eat it later."

Leidel pulled up a stool and straddled it, facing her. "Talk to me, Kaye. Let's get this behind you. I don't believe you're a murderer. Tell me how those bones came to rest at the bottom of Lover's Leap..."

For the first time since she'd been arrested, she smiled slightly, but genuinely. She wore his name like a cloak, a token of comfort and security. Although that was not why she had chosen to take the name in the first place, it afforded her some measure of peace in a place where little else did.

"I'm not a murderer, Sir."

"Leidel. Please. And why don't you tell them? Your continued silence only serves t' incriminate you in their eyes."

"Would they believe me?"

Leidel looked at the floor with a sigh. "Well, how did ye know where t' find 'im?"

Eclyse watched the confounded expression on the young man's face. He was still fresh and naive, as she had been not so long ago. He didn't want to believe the worst existed in people, but he was slowly learning that it did. She moved to the bars of the cell and lifted the plate to a wooden table beside her cot, then knelt before the young guard. She inclined her head to catch his gaze and lift his eyes to her own.

"Leidel, there are many things in this world that will try to break you. I see the flame of compassion that burns within your heart. Whatever you do, protect it. Hope in it. But you would be better served to allow your judgement a place apart from that flame."

Leidel watched her eyes for a moment, bewildered, until she rose, breaking off the connection, and returned to the window again.

"Think he'll come?" Leidel rose and moved the stool over against the wall.

"Who?" Eclyse asked without turning to him.

"The one you're watchin' fer."

Eclyse steadied herself with a calming breath before she replied. "Aye."

Leidel watched her a moment longer before turning to go.

An' fer your sake, lad, I hope you're not on duty when he does.

[Kaylor]

---

It was cool under the canopy of trees, the road matted with a thick carpet of leaves and pine needles. The air smelled of wet earth and decaying grasses. It wasn't difficult to think of death and vengeance as he rode beneath the blanketing stars toward Minoc. Minoc. He bristled at the memories held within the clutches of that vile town. The lies he'd been led to believe, the betrayal of love he'd borne there. Now in a nearby vale his squire's quest for honour was most assuredly in jeopardy. Bringing his steed to a sudden halt, he withdrew Eclyse's journal from the leather saddlebag utilizing the single streak of silver illumination from the crescent moon above to re-read the last page written in her flowing script.

It is my sincerest hope that this page may be torn from the journal upon my return and burned.

"And it is my sincerest hope that whoever stands in the way of your safety be torn from the comfort of virtue's false securities!" Kaylor's words rang out upon the darkness like the final toll of midnight peeling forth from the shadows of time. Each minute that passed could quite possibly be her last and, if he were already to late, Hawthorne Valley would soon know hell's fury!
_________________
*Even if you be otherwise perfect, you fail without humility. ~ The Talmud*

[Eclyse Christian]

---

A parchment poster can be seen tacked to bulletin boards and tavern walls throughout Minoc and the surrounding communities:

[Kaylor]

---

"I seek your daughter, Sir." Kaylor locked eyes with Minoc's mining baron, his tone pleasant yet weighted with an undertone of boundless overture. The early morning sun peeked in through slatted windows, grazing over his aristocratic features and accentuating the shadows of sleeplessness left in the wake of his determined intensity.

The baron raised a finger to his spectacles, sliding them up the bridge of his nose in order to afford himself a better view of the stranger who'd bolted into his office with such unannounced aplomb. He'd not seen Eclyse in quite some time and was uncertain himself as to her whereabouts. "I 'ave no notion where the lass is these days," he replied curtly. "And e'en if I did, wot makes you think I'd be tellin' it to e'ery young cuss walkin' into my office wantin' to know?"

A flutter of parchment resting on a nearby windowsill caught Kaylor's attention, abruptly halting the acrid tirade of response rising in his throat. The name scribed boldly in black ink struck a chord of instinctive recognition that sent his heart instantly plummeting. He reached over, snatching the poster from where it lay and slamming it down on the desk in front of Eclyse's father. "How long has this been here?" he demanded harshly. "And where in hell is this damnable vale?"

"Wot's it to ye?" the man queried reaching for the dagger he kept tucked in the pocket of his waistcoat as he took to his feet in alarm. "Acquainted with that wench?"

In a swift motion of fluidity Kaylor's own dagger appeared in his hand. Without giving the baron time to react, he sent the blade sailing end over end dangerously close to the man's right shoulder before watching it embed into the rough-hewn plank wall behind him. There was no relenting in his stolid features as Kaylor stepped close to the baron who now stood frozen in place, his fingers trembling as the blade he'd been holding clattered to the floor between them. "What's it to ye?" he mimicked vehemently, placing a firm hand on the man's chest and shoving him backward. "Which way to Hawthorne's?!"

"North out of town, then back to the northwest."

Leaving his weapon where it had landed, Kaylor turned toward the door and was gone.
_________________
*Even if you be otherwise perfect, you fail without humility. ~ The Talmud*

[Eclyse Christian]

---

Another day. Another guard.

Eclyse's eyes fluttered open as her restless slumber released her again to the waking world. She lay curled up on her side, facing the back wall, and had listened as the office door opened and slammed shut behind her.

"Life of luxury, eh?" Came a voice from behind her. Eclyse turned her head slightly toward the ceiling to acknowledge him, but did not look at him or answer.

"Get up, woman. If I'm awake, you're awake."

"Aye, Sir." Eclyse sat up on her cot and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, then rose and straightened the blankets and pillow.

"Good girl. 'Least -someone- taught ye somethin' along the way."

Eclyse glanced instinctively toward the barred window, but quickly looked back to the guard again, veiling her expression.

"Ahhh, so that's who you're always watchin' fer." The guard laughed. "Well so be it. He can stand in line till we're done with ye. We'll see what use yer headless corpse is to 'im." Another guard sitting at the desk chortled.

Eclyse's stomach turned over. She knew it reflected in her expression, but she couldn’t' hide it.

"That's right," the guard continued. "That's what we call ‘consequences o' yer actions.’ Now, up against the wall. And don't even think o' tryin' anything funny."

Eclyse stepped back, flattening her back against the far wall as the guard let himself into her cell to retrieve her half-finished plate from the night before. He replaced it with a plate of hot eggs and bacon, and placed the old plate on the floor, sliding it under the bars to guard the outside the cell. As he rose and turned, he glared intently at Eclyse.

"I'm not like Leidel. I don't pansy around and play nursemaid to murderous wenches like ye. Sooner ye learn that, th' better." He approached Eclyse, stopping directly in front of her. He glared into her eyes coldly, his hulking form closing in on her as she heard the front office door open again behind him.

Eclyse stood straight, and defiantly kept eye contact. "I'm not a murderer."

"Oho! Is that so?" The guard chuckled. "Well to hear them tell it, the prison cemetery's full o' people who ain't murderers."

Eclyse returned his glare, but remained silent.

The guard reached across with his right hand and grabbed an object from his belt. Eclyse didn't have time to react, or even see what it was. He struck her across the face, knocking her sideways. She fell to one knee, her head reeling. The world spun in diagonals. Eclyse knew better than to stand again. She'd only invite further injury. She remained kneeling, her hand covering her cheekbone where the brunt of the blow had fallen. The flesh pulsed, heavy and numb, beneath her hand. There was an urgent shuffling noise somewhere behind the guard that carried out onto the front steps. Then only silence remained as the door slammed shut again.

"When ye get ready to talk, ye know where to find me." He nodded toward his post at the door of the office, then turned and left her cell, locking it behind him. Hastily, he loped out the front door and shut it behind him.

Eclyse rose and went to the washbasin, examining her reflection in clear, cold water. A jagged split on her right cheekbone slowly oozed blood, but nothing seemed broken. A drop of blood fell into the water and swirled in aerials as it dissipated.

Carefully, she wet a corner of her towel and washed the cut. Then she cooled the wet towel in the window and held the cold wet cloth to her cheek to ease the pain and swelling.

"My Knight is nay so compassionate as I.” Eclyse spoke softly as she turned to stare at the closed door after the guard. “Each drop o' my blood ye spill will on'y make it harder on ye in the long run. Sooner ye learn -that-, the better."

[Kaylor]

---

The wind died and the sky cleared rapidly. A hush settled over the valley but there was tension in the air as tangible as the storm that raged in Kaylor's soul. He stood at the entrance - cool and impassive, silent and reserved - attempting to gather the required control. Since days spent imprisoned himself he'd developed a deep aversion to jails and the wretched cells they contained to the point of physical affliction. An attempted desinsitization had only succeeded in making it worse. This time, however, he wasn't the one being held behind bars but rather his squire. "Honour", he sighed. "Virtue is so little worth its recompense". Drawing a deep breath, he pressed his hand to the door and stepped inside.

His skin crawled, calm completely out of the question as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Seeking the nearest wall, he reached out a hand to brace himself against the sudden wave of vertigo engulfing him.

"You alright?" A husky voice approached with concern, a hand coming to rest upon his left shoulder.

"Aye," he lied. "Just a passing annoyance. Mind if I sit?"

"Chair's right there next to ya. Suit yourself." The youth lowered his hand, pointing to a crudely crafted wooden bench.

He nodded and was about to take a seat when the cry of a familiar voice pierced through the unwelcome haze, a loud crash bringing him forth from the fog. He turned toward the sound to see Eclyse lying on the floor, her hand gentled over the right side of her face, rivulets of crimson seeping out between her fingers. He watched as the guard moved away from her, tucking something into his pocket before walking out of the cell and locking the door behind him with a grin of sadistic satisfaction.

Kaylor's rage flared in a burst of explosive fury. His attack swift and sudden, he advanced upon the guard, shoving him out the door and into the dirt road beyond. It took little effort to dispatch the thug. Laying facedown in the dust, blood streaming from a cut on his head, a booted foot planted firmly on the back of his neck, the large man blinked dazedly then drew a pained breath and lost consciousness.

"This one's from Eclyse," Kaylor scowled, giving his target a sharp kick to the ribs before stepping away.

Eclyse. Brave, strong and beautiful, his squire had become his treasure.
_________________
*Even if you be otherwise perfect, you fail without humility. ~ The Talmud*

[Eclyse Christian]

---

The heavy front door swung shut behind her. The sounds of scuffle quelled outside, Eclyse heard nothing but the wind through the valley rustling the last of autumn’s leaves outside her window. She watched the road intently. Perhaps he had given up on her return. Or perhaps he wouldn’t know where to begin to look, even if he tried.

“Eclyse.”

She knew his voice the instant she heard it, and spun around to face him. “Sir Kaylor!” Her expression was radiant. Never had she imagined such relief to see her knight’s scowl.

“Are you all right?”

Eclyse nodded dashing to the barred door as Kaylor produced keys and let himself into her cell. “Fine, Sir.” She looked confusedly at the keys and back up to his brooding gaze. “They let ye ‘ave the keys?”

“With some persuasion.” He smirked, a hint of mischief sparkling in his eyes.

Eclyse stood straight and still, her expression betraying the debate in her mind.

“What is it, Squire?” Kay watched her curiously.

“Permission to hug ye, Sir? I know I promised not to b—“

Kaylor spoke in a low and gentle tone. “Permission granted, and gladly.”

Eclyse threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. He returned the embrace somewhat rigidly, then backed out of it to look at her. He cupped her chin gently and tilted her head to examine the cut on her cheek. “What else have they done to you?”

Eclyse lowered her eyes and shook her head. “Nothin’ Sir. That’s th’ first of it.”

“Good.” Kay’s eyes flitted to hers briefly before he lowered his hand from her chin. “And I swear to you it will be the last.”

[Eclyse Christian]

---

“What’s wrong, Sir?”

Kaylor shuddered, looking physically ill. Sweat beaded his brow, and his colour had paled more with each passing moment. He raised his eyes to meet to hers for the first time in at least half an hour. “I am fine, Squire. It will pass.” Immediately he averted his gaze again. He was lying, and she knew it.

“Yer tired an’ ye need rest.” Eclyse rose and moved a few steps toward the cell door.

Kaylor’s glanced sidelong toward the door with veiled longing. “You need rest too, Squire. But I suppose you are right.” He rose, but stopped at the door, looking suddenly torn between his desire to flee this dank prison, and his desire to see his squire comforted.

“I’ll be fine, Sir.” Eclyse nodded reassuringly. “They won’t dare touch me again. Ye seen t’ that a’ready.”

“You have to tell them, Eclyse. You have to tell them everything. Remember your lessons in Honesty.”

Eclyse nodded again. “Aye sir, I will speak wi’ the Sheriff on th’ morrow. He’s th’ only one I trust. ‘Sides Leidel, that is.”

Kaylor forced a grim smile as he fought off another shudder, and spoke in a hushed tone. “You’ve become strong and brave, Eclyse. I’m proud to call you my squire.”

With that, he turned and let himself out of her cell, then disappeared out the front door. Briefly, through the opened door she could see all the guards except for the one who’d struck her down.

Guess I don’ have t' ask whose blood that was on his boots an’ the hem of his robe…