Vero had difficulty balancing herself riding side saddle, but Jean held her in place.

  Most of the camp disbanded to return to their own homes, but a small retinue of Jean’s personal retainers still followed them, and these were the most impressive of his knights. Their armor was masterly crafted and gleamed brilliant in the sun, they rode stallions larger than any horse she ever saw before.

  The road was winding and hilly, but eventually it terminated at the outer wall of Jean’s family keep. They stopped in front of the moat and waited for the drawbridge to be lowered for them. Past the wall, the road wound in a spiral pattern between the inner and outer walls, until they reached a set of portcullises leading into the castle courtyard.

  The castle looked as though it had been built in phases by different architects. The tower was the oldest, but more extensions were since built all around it. The heavy oak doors leading into the great hall opened, and a beautiful woman emerged, followed by a train of maidservants.

  She had long blond hair, fair skin, and shapely curves, and she wore an elegant gown of many colors, which trailed along the ground at her feet.

  Jean dismounted first, then helped Vero down.

  The woman approached them and Jean moved to greet her. “It’s good to see you again. Any trouble while I’ve been away?”

  “No, no trouble. Who is this?”

  “The Lady Veronique de Loix. Vero this is my wife, Marie.”

  Vero curtsied. “A pleasure to meet you, my Lady. The Marquis speaks of you often.”

  The Marquise Marie smiled back at her. “I’m sure Jean has better things to discuss with a charming young woman like yourself than his wife.”

  “I- didn’t mean to-”

  The Marquise’s smile broadened and she took Vero by the arm. “No need for apprehension. My husband has already written ahead to tell me of your arrival. I’ve had a room prepared for you, its small and rather plain, but I just presumed you would be spending most of your time elsewhere.”

  Jean was leading his horse towards the stable. “I need to speak to my chancellor about official matters. Will you look after Vero until I’ve finished?”

  “Delighted to, husband.”

  And he was gone.

  Vero did not feel comfortable saying anything so she remained silent. The Marquise toured her across the castle, but the rooms melded into one another. Vero realized she was in a dream, and tried to use force of will to increase their speed until they reached her bedroom at the end.

  “And this is where you can sleep, although I’m certain you’ll be able to find some place warmer if you exert yourself.”

  “At the time, I believed that you were jealous of me,” said Vero

  The dream Marquise was glowing. “Of course, I wasn’t.”

  “No- not of me. It was Jean, wasn’t it?”

  “How can I answer that? I believe that I was, but this is your dream. I am you. Why should I have been jealous of my own husband?”

  “Your marriage was political; you envied his perceived freedom, because you didn’t appreciate that he never had much more choice than you did.”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

  Vero drew nearer to her. “I thought you were jealous of my relationship with Jean- but perhaps… it was his relationship with me.”

  “That’s vanity.”

  Their party set out before the sunrise and marched all day. They believed they left unobserved. Isolde’s divination seemed to have held, because the weather was temperate and visibility was good.

  It took some time for them to find a good pace. Vero was in the best physical condition of the group. She expected Alexius to fall behind, but the priest proved himself to be totally indefatigable. His pace was perfectly balanced and never slowed by a foot so far as she could see.

  Pentarch, by contrast, suddenly seemed to show his age. He was obviously ashamed when he needed to ask her to wait for him to regain his wind. It hurt Vero to see it, but she was not certain why. Still, he was able to keep a faster pace than Isolde.

  After stopping for their midday meal, they started making steadier progress. The slayer academy was built into the farthest peaks of the Star Mountains, but the way became easier the further they went.

  Near evening, Vero felt a creeping sense of anxiety as the light grew lower. Without the arcane protections of the slayer fortress, the Fiend would try and enter her dreams again, as it did on her first journey up into the mountains.

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  It came over her slowly, on her journey through the Dread Valley. Would it be quicker this time, now that it had the taste of her?

  There was a cold sweat along her arms, and down her back. She felt weighed down by a miasma of fear. The fainter the light, the worse the affliction became.

  Pentarch motioned for her to wait again, and he approached her breathing heavily. “Nearly night- dangerous to go on… find a place for us to camp… when you can…”

  “Understood.” Vero felt a curious sensation of pride that Pentarch clearly relied on her to do what his own body could not.

  “This way!” Alexius called over to them, and also waved to Isolde.

  Then he disappeared over a mound of snow.

  Vero and Pentarch shrugged to one another and followed him. Isolde had no choice except to do the same, breathing just as heavily as Pentarch as she went. They followed Alexius’ tracks for several paces until they reached the shelter of a shallow cave in the mountain wall. There was just enough room to pitch both their tents.

  “Alright.” Pentarch took a drink from his waterskin. “We’ll camp here. Set up both tents. Our fuel is limited, and it’s too cold not to share body heat during the night. Alexius will share a tent with me, Isolde you’ll sleep with Vero.”

  “No.” Isolde subdued her gasps for air and stood up in front of Pentarch.

  Vero busied herself trying to start a fire. Alexius went to work evening the ground and clearing space for the tents.

  “Must you be obstinate about everything?” Pentarch’s tone indicated he had little patience left to spare.

  “She’s a witch. And a whore. And perhaps more besides. I want nothing to do with that woman.”

  Pentarch snorted. “You’ll freeze to death by yourself. And I hardly think you’re in a position to call anyone else a witch.”

  “I’m no maleficar. I’ve never used forbidden magic in my life. I’ll share a tent with Alexius. You’re a priest aren’t you, Father?”

  “I am,” Alexius answered, without looking up from his work.

  “Then I have no need to fear you taking advantage of me?”

  “I have taken vows. Pleasures of the flesh hold no interest to me.” It would have sounded ridiculous from anyone else, but Alexius spoke with such calm indifference that Vero believed him.

  “Do you have any objection to sleeping beside a beautiful woman?” Isolde asked.

  “What does such a question have to do with you?” Vero observed wryly, but Isolde ignored her.

  Alexius was so engaged in his own work he hardly took any notice of either of them. “I will accept whatever arrangement is decided by the group. Man or woman makes no difference. Physical circumstances are irrelevant to me.”

  Isolde turned back towards Pentarch, who watched everything transpire behind a tightly clenched jaw. “Satisfied?

  “No,” he answered.

  “Now who’s being obstinate?”

  “I’m not going to ask Vero to place herself in that kind of-”

  “What does she care? It’s not as though she’s inexperienced with that kind of work. Are you short of coin? Surely, she must offer an easy price to other members of her own order.”

  Vero interrupted before Pentarch could reply. “If she wishes to lay with – pardon – lay beside the priest, let her. She can discover his honesty the hard way – pardon – the soft way. And if she tries to force herself on him, I’m sure he’ll be able to call us for help before she gets too far. He's clearly fitter than she is.”

  Pentarch threw up his hands and began putting up the tents without saying anything. Isolde gave Vero a nasty look, which told her that she had successfully taken the luster off this petty victory. Alexius kept his head down and gave no indication that anything happened at all.

  They boiled some dried meat in snowmelt over the fire for supper, which they ate with tough bread. Once they had eaten, they went to bed quickly. Vero planned to sleep in her clothes, it was far too cold not to, but she gave Pentarch time alone in their tent to do as he wished before she followed him.

  She pulled her cloak off, but laid it over her bedroll as another blanket. She also removed her boots, but kept them by the entrance. The tent was very cramped, but she hoped that would keep in the heat. She tied the tent flap tightly closed.

  Vero laid down in her bedroll and tried to make herself comfortable. The ground was flat, but now that she was no longer moving and away from the fire, it was terribly cold. Pentarch made no noise or movement, he might have already been asleep as far as she knew.

  Vero closed the miniscule distance between them. She reached out to touch his shoulder and he turned over to face her. Without speaking he put an arm around her and pulled her close to him. She laid her head across his shoulder and he did his best to wrap them both up as tightly as possible.

  Vero had not been certain if Pentarch was truthful about his impotence, but even pressed right up against him she could not feel the slightest stirrings. She did not consider herself a great beauty, but she knew enough about men not to be shocked at some reaction to such close contact, regardless of attraction. She felt a pang of sympathy at his condition, but it made things much simpler between them.

  Vero relaxed and Pentarch probably felt the tension ease out of her, because his muscles also slowly eased themselves. She felt a rough and calloused hand stroking her back and fell asleep almost at once.

  Despite her worries, Vero had no fell dreams. Or, at least, none she could remember.

  Her sleep was still restless, but so long as she was nestled comfortably in Pentarch’s embrace, she could usually drift off again.

  From then on, Alexius also offered to say his vesper prayers with her as they went, although they worshiped different gods. Something about those prayers seemed to put the malignant presence within the mountains at a distance, and made it easier to sleep.

  Pentarch knew a trail that took them an easy way down from the summit, and the weather was temperate for winter, so they made excellent time.

  On the sixth day, Vero passed around the ridge which revealed a steep descent into a valley. A valley covered in trees, real living trees. Past the valley, the terrain turned to flat lowlands. Vero motioned for the others.

  They ate their midday meal on the shallow edge in silence, then began the difficult climb down the way, which was almost sheer in places. The night side of the mountains were so called because light rarely fell on them- except perhaps at the height of summer. Further down in the lowlands, Vero suspected they got at least a couple hours of sun, even in the colder seasons. Although she had never seen it with her own eyes, she knew from books that further north than this the sun never rose during winter.

  Only Vero and Pentarch had any experience mountain climbing, and the trail they followed ended in a sharp descent. The darkness only amplified the danger.

  Pentarch went first and left a clear path for the others to follow. Vero assisted first Alexius and then Isolde down with a rope, before finally climbing down herself. Although there were slips, the safety rigging they hammered in place with pitons kept them free of injury.

  Down in the trees they were protected from the wind, and it was immediately much warmer. Off the mountain at last, Vero’s sleep also became untroubled.

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