It was the first time that Dom properly met Owen of Jesslaw. He had seen him from afar many times during the Progress, and briefly during their visits to Fort Mastiff. Most of his knowledge of the young man came from Neal's letters, from some of which he couldn't tell if his cousin valued his friendship with the younger man, or if he secretly wanted to push him off a bridge. Dom suspected it was probably a complicated mix of both, though he himself had not yet seen enough of the young man to form his own opinion.

That would change on their little foray into Scanran territory.

They had just settled down to wait for the dark, at which time a small party would advance to begin whittling down Stenmun and his warriors. Dom stuck to Neal, making sure his cousin ate and rested properly to regain his strength after healing the refugees. Together they watched as Owen chatted animatedly to the trapper Saefas, who seemed to be amused by the exuberant squire.

"Is he usually like that? I feel so tired just watching him," Dom asked.

"He's not that bad," began Neal.

"I know—heart of gold and what not—but he makes me feel old. And tired," Dom complained.

"Owen tends to have that effect. You should've met him before the Stump beat the worst of it out of him," Neal said, smirking.

"I hate to imagine," Dom replied drily.

They watched as Kel moved over to enter the conversation, trailed by her scowling servant boy, Tobe.

"Owen seems quite fond of our Kel," Dom observed.

"Yes, quite fond," Neal agreed.

"Do you think she sees it?"

"Of course," Neal said tartly.

"Do you think," began Dom.

"No, he's like one of her strays to her. It's puppy love. He'll get over it."

As they watched, Kel giggled at something Owen said. She seemed more relaxed now they were closer to Stenmun and the children.

"Say, Domitan," Neal drawled after a couple of minutes.

"What, Meathead?" Dom asked, warily.

"Would you find him less annoying if he weren't monopolising the Lady Knight's time?"

Dom glared at his cousin. Neal looked as if he'd perked up considerably, but he doubted it was because of food or rest.

"I never said he was annoying."

"Yes, you did."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"I did not—I only said he makes me feel tired."

"But by that you strongly implied that you find him annoying," Neal argued pedantically.

"No point in arguing with a Meathead," Dom said, getting up. It was definitely time to find something else to do, he decided.

"He who first resorts to insults loses the argument," Neal retorted haughtily. "I knew it. You're jealous."

Dom made a rude sign to his cousin and went to check his weapons.

The worst part of it was that Neal wasn't entirely wrong.