'Where are you going, Squire?'

“Where are you going, Squire?” Alred asked softly from behind him.

Egelric stopped and laid a hand briefly on the hilt of his knife. It was not that he would have dreamed of attacking his lord, but that was the way he lived these days – everything and everyone was a potential enemy. And tonight he was particularly on edge.

He turned without a word. He did not need to explain. Or did he? It was his lord.

“To a woman?” Alred asked.

'To a woman?'

“Aye.”

“Is she married?”

Egelric hesitated, wary. “Why do you ask?”

“You don’t often wear a sword when you visit your darlings, do you?”

“It is not my sword. It’s only my grandfather’s knife. It’s for her.”

'It's for her.'

“She sounds dangerous.”

“She tried to kill my daughter.”

“Ah. That woman.”

'Ah. That woman.'

“Aye.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You would have stopped me.”

“You wield the unanswerable logic of a fourteen-​​year-​​old.”

“And you wear the unquestionable scowl of my grandfather.”

'And you wear the unquestionable scowl of my grandfather.'

“Unlike your grandfather, I am not big enough to stop you from going out.”

“Good night then.”

“God keep you from harm.”

Egelric bowed and continued down the corridor.

Egelric bowed and continued down the corridor.