It was over a month of scouting, as far as Salvisa could estimate. Over a month of venturing out into the unknown, killing what monsters lay there, so that the area could one day be occupied—however briefly—by the residents of Manastash. It was a day like any other that Salvisa returned to the great hall, battered and bloodied, to see Walse crimson-faced and spitting-mad to greet her.

"I can't take this anymore!" he shouted in her face, so close that Salvisa could not even focus on his features. Walse stank. It was obvious that despite the hot springs in the fortress, he had not bathed in the last week since Salvisa had returned to civilization. His hair was greasy and clung in dark, limp strands against his scalp.

"Walse, please, calm down…" Flossie begged. She tugged at his sleeve but her husband ignored her.

"How much longer are we going to be here!?" Walse raged, spit flecking Salvisa's face, "What are you doing to help me, aside from traipsing about in the tunnels?"

Salvisa grit her teeth. It was stress, she told herself. She wiped a way some of Walse's spittle, but it mixed with a blue-black crust of spider blood. She could feel it leave a streak against her cheek. She knew Walse was better with managing people than she was. Aside from Erda he was the leader of Manastash before Salvisa came. She didn't feel comfortable in anything other than a familiar role of Captain, leading a small group with a definite goal.

"Walse, what's wrong?" Salvisa asked. She guessed that the time underground was not the largest problem, only the most salient.

"I can't deal with this anymore! Not even with your blind witch and your kid 'strategist.'" Walse growled, dropping his voice. A crowd was growing around them, curious about the exchange. Salvisa could not tell whose side- if there was a side to be taken- that they were on.

"What can I help you with?" Salvisa said as calmly as she could, "Celsian says we may be another month out. If you need me, I can-"

"These damnable subhumans! These ridiculous elves and their whining, these dwarves and the kobolds. Not a one of them has any sense of how to deal with their own stupid problems. And Erda's sick, and… Gah!"

There it was, thought Salvisa. The crux of the problem. Walse could deal with anything, but if his mother-in-law was ill, the wisewoman of the village, it was a completely different level of responsibility.

"I can stay here for a while, Walse." Salvisa said, "Someone else can go into the tunnels. I can stay here. Freia as well, if you need."

"And how does that help me over the last week!?"

"Stand down." Corbin interrupted.

Salvisa startled. She hadn't expected Corbin to stand up for her, even as a former subordinate. He had always expected Salvisa to handle her own verbal battles. The hairs on the back of Salvisa's neck prickled. She couldn't let this turn into a battle of classes more than it already had.

"Oh, of course you won't come to our side, you piss-headed twit!" Walse shouted.

Salvisa could feel the entire hall grow silent. It was as palpable a fear as the eye of a storm, or the moment of watching a predator coil up to strike.

"Well I'm surprised you keep asking the advice of an incestuous pervert!" Corbin shot back.

If the silence was dangerous before, it was deadly now. Salvisa could feel the color drain from her face all the way to her fingertips and toes, leaving only ice in its wake.

"Say that again, Corbin." Salvisa said.

"You… you are an incestuous pervert." Corbin repeated softly. His cheeks flushed. He widened his stance, and looked Salvisa straight in the eye as he said loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear, "Salvisa Posthuma is an incestuous pervert."

Salvisa didn't know she could feel any colder, as close as she was to a crowd of people. A ripple of confusion flowed through the hall. Walse scowled at Corbin questioningly.

"You better have proof." Walse said.

"Please, Corbin. Why do you say this now? You can't mean it!" Salvisa said. She could feel tears begin to well up in her eyes. There was too much shame in his accusation. She had too long denied why there would be a kernel of truth.

"We're only here because that Priest-General Sasarai was fucking her." Corbin accused, "And he looks exactly like her son, who is fighting for the Temple. Isn't that right?"

"Not to me, I-" Salvisa faltered, trying some strength to her argument.

"Isn't that right, Austen?" Corbin raised his voice, and turned to Salvisa's strategist in the crowd. "You've seen Bram, you've said as much."

"There's some resemblance, but-"

"And you, Maren, you've seen Bram and Sasarai both. What say you?"

"I thought Sasarai was Bram when I first saw him." Maren murmured. Her expression was pursed with unease.

"You hear!? And our so-called Captain takes that man, that man who has served Harmonia for two centuries, that man who looks exactly. Like. Her. Son. And she lets him do the most disgusting things to her. Who's really leading us, Salvisa?"

"Corbin!" Salvisa pleaded. "You can't think it's like that!"

"I can." Corbin declared, "I can, and I've seen it. It makes me want to puke, but I thought that you were smarter. That you wouldn't let your vile, disgusting, whims destroy us."

Salvisa sank to her knees. She felt so weak, she didn't know if she could rise again. She couldn't recall anyone who could put that lie to rest. Filled with despair and doubt, Salvisa wondered if any of it was actually not a lie, one that she buried, even to herself, though the thought of replacing Bram with Sasarai or the reverse made her want to vomit. Salvisa choked, holding back bile and acid and swallowing them again to let her physical pain be greater than all the shame she would experience by vomiting here and now.

"That is blasphemous. The gods only bring curses for people like Corbin describes." Walse said dangerously, like he was willing to chance that gods were the reason for all his bad luck. "Do you have anything to say?"

"I say it's not true. I know that Corbin is my only witness, but I say that whatever he saw, he understands its wrong. Corbin, have you ever seen me done anything untoward with Bram?"

"You always sneak off alone with Sasarai."

"And did I ever do that with Bram?" Salvisa insisted, her voice growing in volume, "Did I ever treat him as anything other than my son and my subordinate? I can't imagine where you picked up such a stupid idea as me ever hurting Bram like that." Salivsa shouted. She turned red now, having found something Corbin couldn't deny. "Austen, say something."

"I don't know." Austen said. He fidgeted, biting his lip and twisting his fingers uncertainly. "I'm sorry. He looked like Sasarai, but older and stronger. But I don't think that it's reason to-"

"I need to banish you, Salvisa." Walse said.

Salvisa nodded, sighing deeply. "If you think that will lift some sort of curse, Walse, I will exile myself. I pray that your troubles ease, for agreeing with such a groundless idea as Corbin's."

She wanted to fight to the bitter end, and she wanted to disappear at the same time. Neither Austen nor Maren could say anything more than the resemblance. Salvisa sorted through every liaison she had with Sasarai, wondering which was the one that betrayed her. She stared down Corbin, who avoided her gaze. He wasn't defiant any more. Whatever spark had caused him to accuse Salvisa had fled and resided in Walse now, who seemed to nurture it for his own comfort.

"You are dead to us. We will make our way out of these tunnels, through the wall your 'General' created, or through the passages beneath Manastash." Walse declared, "We cannot, before gods, runes, and men, allow you to lead us. If anyone speaks to Salvisa, let them as well be dead to us as well."

Salvisa blinked away tears. So this was the result. Her confidence wavered again. Bram. Sasarai. She took him in his arms and spun him around like her own child. She followed his suggestions like he was her own master, with the whole obedience she had loved Auxier with. Every time Sasarai had touched her—

"Then I will go." Salvisa said, "If you can't trust me, if I am banished, I will go into the tunnels alone."

Salvisa prostrated herself on the ground. It pained every joint to rise again. She continued, "I don't expect you to speak with me anymore. But I say to you: I will die before I forget you underground. There is a world outside. There is an exit outside of Manastash. And I will take you there. I will take you there even if I am dead to you. Even if I am dead."

Tears began to streak down Salvisa's face against her will. Her voice cracked as she said, "Let me get my things."

She left the great hall, ignoring all sounds from the crowd. She was certain there was indignation, both for and against her. No one dared come near her, to beg forgiveness or block her path or insult Salvisa to her face. Maligned by noise, she found her room and took a rucksack to fill with what she needed. Salvisa took her old uniform in hand, smiling wryly at it. She thrust the bundle into her pack. It was too much of her to leave behind, even as she promised herself again and again that she would burn it one day. She threw in a few other change of clothes, what she would need to keep her sword sharp, and a flask of wine she knew she would go through too quickly.

Salvisa left the door to her room open and unlocked. It was her place no longer. When she returned to the hall, she read the Tablet of Stars for a last time, finding no change. Corbin had disappeared. Salvisa wondered where he might have gone. Surely not into the tunnels to join her and beg forgiveness. She gave a last embrace to Walse, expecting nothing in return.

"You do what you know is right." She said to him simply. Salvisa turned again to Austen and Leknaat, wrapping her arms around each as she said, "I will see you again."

Salvisa knew her face was red as she entered the tunnel. Her eyes were puffy, their blue made bright and horrific by the redness of the flesh around them. The halls seemed much larger now, or her own self much smaller, without anyone by her side. The canal was barely audible over the sound of her own pulse in Salvisa's ears. Tears mingled with snot and crusted blood and trailed between her lips. Salvisa spat out the bitter mixture onto the floor. One month more, Celsian had said. It would be a very long month.