“Look, I understand that you think you’ve lost your magic, but—” Jo began again.
“There’s no ‘think’ to it, Jo!” Karleah interjected. Her voice cracked with strain and anger and, Jo thought, fear. “Something inside that lair has stolen most of my spells! I’m afraid to use any more for fear they’ll disappear, too!” Jo tried to calm the distraught woman, who had begun to pace again. “I understand that, Karleah,” the squire said, “but I want to stay here and at least watch the lair! You and Braddoc and Dayin can head back to the castle. Then send me a mage who can help me get back inside.”
“Bah!” Karleah snorted. “One of those pansy (meaning no disrespect to the flower) mages might be able to get you in, but not out!”
Jo stood up and held her hands toward Karleah. This argument had gone on long enough. “What do you expect me to do, Karleah? Will you tell me that much, huh?” Jo’s voice rose. She took a step forward and slashed the air with one hand. “At Flinn’s pyre, I swore I would avenge his death!” Her eyes flashed at the older woman. Karleah had the grace to look momentarily chagrined, but Jo wasn’t mollified. “I must stay here—”
From his position by the fire, Braddoc spoke up for the first time that night. All the time Jo and Karleah had argued, he’d been idly rummaging through his backpack, looking at his treasures from the dragon’s lair. Dayin had stayed by the dwarf’s side, obviously seeking Braddoc’s stoic protection against the volatile argument between the squire and the wizardess.
“No, Johauna,” Braddoc interrupted, “that’s not what you must do—that’s what you want to do.” The dwarf picked up a stick and stoked the embers. He eyed Jo with his good orb, the firelight glinting off the blind one.
Jo rounded on Braddoc. “Oh, yes? Is that what you think? Come on, Braddoc! You know what Flinn meant to me!”
“Yes. I do,” the dwarf said imperturbably. He tossed aside his stick. “I also know you swore an oath to Baroness Arteris Penhaligon. When a knight dies, the squire must immediately report to the castle for reassignment … or dismissal. Which oath is more important to you, Johauna, the oath of vengeance or of honor?” Braddoc stood and drew himself to his full height. “I could tell you which was more important to Flinn, but I think we all know. If you aren’t going to be a squire any longer, Johauna, then I’m leaving in the morning.”
“Leaving!” The word exploded from Jo’s lips. She put her hands on her hips and stood before the dwarf.
Braddoc nodded. “You heard me.” He shook his handsome russet head, the newly plaited beard gleaming with a golden braid he’d found inside the lair. “Remember: I’m a mercenary at heart. I was one before you ever met me.” He gestured at the rest of the booty he’d stolen from Verdilith. “I’ve got a few baubles I can sell to keep me in comfort the rest of my life, plus an interesting box to spend my time puzzling over.”
“But—!” Jo exclaimed, cutting short her words. She changed her tactic. “What about Flinn? I thought he was your friend.”
Braddoc didn’t bat an eye. “ Was is right. What about Flinn? He’s dead. I can’t help him any more. He wouldn’t expect me to, either.”
Jo leaned backward, her eyes caught by Braddoc’s expression. “And what of me? Am I not your friend?” she asked quietly after a long moment.
The dwarf pursed his lips before saying slowly, “Yes, you are my friend, Johauna Menhir. But you have a choice to make here, and that is, which of the two oaths you have sworn will you honor first? If you choose your desire to avenge Flinn’s death, I can’t help you now. If you return to the castle, I can help you. I’d like to take over where Flinn left off on your training.”
The last sentence held such a ring of concern and sincerity that Jo had to swallow a sudden lump in her throat. She glanced away at Karleah and Dayin, both of whom were silently watching her, then she turned back to the dwarf. “Can’t—” Jo began, then coughed “—can’t you go to the castle with Karleah and Dayin and send back help? I can guard the lair… .”
Braddoc crossed his arms. “You’re forgetting one thing, Johauna,” he said quietly. “Yow are the squire, not me. Flinn’s dead and Verdilith is still alive. It’s your job to report that back at the castle.” Braddoc turned and began walking away toward his tent. “I won’t do your job,” he tossed over his shoulder.
Jo watched the dwarf retreat into the darkness. She rubbed her hands together wearily. Just as she saw Braddoc pull back his tent flap, she called out, “All right! All right! I’ll … go to the castle.” She added when she saw Braddoc turn back toward her, “I will do my duty as a squire in the order, but I will request assignment to avenge Flinn’s death”
“And we’ll go with you,” Braddoc replied. Karleah and Dayin nodded assent.
Jo rubbed her eyes and pushed aside the memory of that conversation. Tensions had run high between her and her comrades, but they’d lessened the last few days on the road. Now the party had almost reached the Castle of the Three Suns. The knight and his guards were approaching her, and soon she’d have to make some sort of formal report to the baroness. Jo bit her lip but didn’t slow her horse, Carsig.
Show no hurry, she thought. Show no grief. Flinn died in glory; to show your pain is to mock his death. Jo’s face set in rigid lines, and her teeth clenched together involuntarily. Every step she took back to the castle meant she was that much farther from avenging Flinn’s death, and that rankled inside her. But, she thought, I have a duty to perform.
Just as they reached the halfway point of the long, narrow road that wound up to the castle, the knight and his guards met up with Jo’s party. Jo pulled Carsig to a stop. Behind her, Karleah, Dayin, and Braddoc halted their mounts as well. Jo heard the dwarf grumble as Fernlover, the pack mule, tried his best to continue on. A tiny smile tugged at Jo’s lips. The mule had had enough of wilderness travel and longed for the comfort of a stable. Jo recalled the softness of the bed she had stayed in here at the castle, and she suddenly wanted only to retire to a clean, warm room. She quashed the desire immediately and turned her attention to the knight, a man she didn’t know.
“Greetings, Sir Knight,” Jo said courteously. “I’m Squire Menhir, and these are my companions.”
“Well met, squire,” the knight rejoined, looking over the group. If he was perturbed at the absence of Flinn, the knight’s face did not betray him. “I’m Sir Sieguld, and I’m here to escort you to the baroness.” Sir Sieguld turned his horse around. Jo and the others fell in step behind him, and the guards brought up the rear.
Jo approached the Castle of the Three Suns and wondered if it had changed in the short time she’d been away; so much of her life had. But the familiar white towers were still there, marking the four points of a diamond, one being the main approach to which they were headed.
Three other towers marked the center of the outer walls, which presented a formidable barricade to the world. These seven outer structures stood four stories high.
Jo passed under the main approach and saw again the single tower that rose twice as high as the others from the center of the castle. This structure was the keep, or donjon, as Flinn had called it. Sir Sieguld continued to ride through the slate-lined courtyard leading toward the inner portion of the castle. Peasants hawking their wares gave way before the knight and his guests. Jo was reminded vividly of her first trip to the castle at Flinn’s side, but she ignored the pain that threatened to rise.