Yay! Chapter three. I apologise for making Kalten's meeting so short, but... you know how it is. I try to keep to about 2 pages of Word. This is the chapter in which our favourite single Cyrinic knight meets his true love (no prizes for guessing who), and wastes a helluva lot of Arcian red. R&R?




"Let's go," Sparhawk said, seeing his daughter's gestures towards the door. He left with his daughter out the door.

"I want Naween and Talen, you dolt!" she hissed as soon as they were out of earshot. Sparhawk muttered a few words as he went back to the tavern and pulled Talen and Naween out with him.

Resuming his place beside his daughter for private conversation, he asked her where and why they were going to some poor person's house in the middle of the night.

"We wouldn't want you to waste all your finery, would we?" Aphrael said impishly. "Let's go find some real friends," she suggested. "Bevier. He's closest," she decided, and then slowed her pace to walk with Talen and Naween.

"Talen, carry me?"

"But I-" he started to protest, but Sparhawk gave him a look. "Yes, your Highness."

Talen grunted as he picked up the Princess. "You're getting too big to be carried," he told her. Danae gave him a broad smile.

"Really?" she purred.

"Never mind," Sparhawk said firmly.

"Danae," Naween said suddenly. "I don't think I should come if you're going to be visiting friends."

"No," Aphrael shook her head. And smiled to herself. "We should all know each other."

'We'? queried Sparhawk silently. 'All'?

Yes, of course. I think that 'we' sounds much better than 'Aphrael's Silver Horde', don't you? His daughter gave him an arch little smile. Watch and learn, Sparhawk. Watch and learn.

So he watched the Princess' skilful manipulation of the young man, and the said young man's quick replies and absent-minded stroking of Danae's hair. Sparhawk decided that Talen was well and truly caught.

Naween caught up to walk next to Sparhawk. "She has her sights set on him, hasn't she?" she observed. "So exactly to who's house are we going?"

Nodding to her earlier question, he also answered her second one by pointing at the door which Talen was knocking on.

"Brother Thims' house of charity?" Naween was surprised. "From what I know, Brother Thims is a gentle man well-versed in history and poetry, and extremely devout. Not exactly one to fight a war."

Sparhawk nearly tripped. "You know... Bevier -I mean, Brother Thims?!" he was staring at her in obvious shock.

"Not personally, no," she shook her head, hiding a smile. "I am only acquainted with his beneficiaries who come to the tavern singing his praises." She frowned. "None of them want to do business with me either," she sighed.

"Thank God," muttered Sparhawk as Brother Thims, once known to the world as Sir Bevier, opened his door.

"Really, what brings you all here in the middle of the night?" Bevier asked, exasperated. "But come in, anyway."

"Gracious," Sparhawk noted as they walked down the dark hallway. "How did you know we were coming?"

"I was reading, and I saw you all approach. A drink?" Bevier offered. He was pouring, and he saw Naween for the first time. They stared at each other. Occasionally Bevier smiled. Sometimes, Naween blushed.

The others had no choice but to watch the two.

Sparhawk noticed that his daughter had a smug little smirk on her face. He decided not to acknowledge it.

Bevier's hands were suspended in midair, and the cup was overflowing.

"If that's good Arcian red, I'll never forgive you," Talen said to nobody in particular, but it brought Naween back.

She looked down at the pool of red wine and burst out laughing.

"I don't believe we have been introduced, Brother Thims," Naween said casually, helping to mop up the spilt wine.

"No, we haven't," Bevier agreed, giving a hard look at Sparhawk, who threw his hands up in exasperation. "But don't call me Brother Thims. Since you came with these three, you must be a friend - my real name is Bevier, a Cyrinic Knight."

"I am honoured to be called a friend, Sir Bevier," Naween said with lowered lashes. However, she also managed to give 'these three' a meaningful look at the same time.

"Ah," Sparhawk said quickly, taking the hint and getting up. He hurriedly pulled his daughter and Talen with him out of Bevier's house. "We'll show ourselves out!" he called.

Talen sniggered beside him. "I think I can safely bet that they didn't hear a word of what you said."

Dawn was starting to peek over the horizon when they got to Kalten's house.

"The baron is not receiving yet," the butler said pompously.

"Hedil, it's me."

"Oh, it's you, Prince Sparhawk. If you'll come with me?"

They were led up some stairs, and passed by musty armour. After showing them into Kalten's bedroom, Hedil discreetly left.

"Kalten, wake up."

"Huh?"

"Wake up."

Alean smiled at the new arrivals and shook her husband. "Kalten..."

"Here," Talen passed Alean a pitcher of cold water.

"Thank you," she accepted the water.



Ten minutes later, they were on their way back to Bevier's house.