There's a very specific segment in this chapter based on my emotional reactions to Seven Pillars of Wisdom (Sabaton) and Let There Be Fire (Aviators), both of which I'd just discovered. One gave me the feeling of how Caoilfhionn sees Trahearne during this time, the other gave me the feeling of how Trahearne sees himself.

20: Strike Boldly

He gathered that the saboteur was dealt with the next day, and prevailed upon Phiadi to give him the whole story, after they had returned and Trahearne and Annhilda went to Hoelbrak. He was shocked to hear that the mesmer had impersonated Trahearne himself in an attempt to disrupt Pact operations! If he'd been there, he would have seen through it immediately, he was sure.

"…said he'd have me up on charges of insubordination…" Phiadi was rambling.

"And you believed him?" he asked indignantly.

Phiadi gave him an arch look. "Hel~lo, it's me! If I don't like my orders, I do what I want anyway! …Usually! It was only after he started being rude that I figured it out. Trahearne is probably not as strict as that imposter… or he might be, given time in his new position… but he's never rude. It would probably break him to be so uncouth or whatever."

"No, indeed. Well, at least you figured it out eventually."

"I did." She finished her story, and then pointed at the letter in his hands. "What's that?"

"A letter to Caithe. She has been… in low spirits. I decided to take today to write back to her again – although, it seems Destiny's Edge is slowly reconciling, one at a time! I think it's wonderful, if true."

Phiadi rolled her eyes. "I think it's suspicious. I don't think they had any real problems with each other, that they were just making it all up."

"You really think so?"

"I think Caithe put them up to it, in fact! She seems the sort to start a scheme like that."

Caoilfhionn was bewildered. "But what purpose would it serve? And don't you remember how they quarreled in Twilight Arbour?"

"Yes, well, I think it's an act. Think about it. They're each prominent citizens – heroes, even, you might say – within their own races, and we of Hope's Legacy are becoming prominent citizens within our own races. You think that's coincidence?"

"Umm…"

"They deliberately left a vacuum to encourage our rise, mentored us separately while we remained within our own countries, quarreled with each other in front of us to warn us against quarreling like that, and now that we're doing all right, they're suddenly cooperating again?" Phiadi shook her head. "I'm not buying it."

Caoilfhionn unfolded one of the letters Caithe had sent him. She really did sound unhappy. The world is cold, and quiet. The chill in my heart feels as though I stand at the heart of winter, even if I know it is not so. I feel truly alone… save for you. I hear that you have done well and struck a mighty blow against Zhaitan. I also hear that, along with Trahearne, you have at last begun the true battle – the invasion of Orr…

Why save the world, when everything in it is falling apart?

"Well, you may think as you like," he said diplomatically. He'd written a passionate answer in response, trying to muster all his hope and resolve and love – of which he still had plenty of all three – trying to support her. She was alone, as she said; her friends did not listen to her, or had not until exceptionally recently. Trahearne had him and the rest of Hope's Legacy nearby to lean on, but who did Caithe really have? So he would do his part, as near as she would allow him. Caithe was a loner, even more than Trahearne. Still, he found it a little strange, upon reflection, that a near-newborn was supporting two Firstborn with beliefs that even he knew to be naive.

Phiadi shook a finger at him. "They say Logan and Rytlock managed to work together long enough to take down some Flame Charr leader jerk at the Citadel of Flame. They say Eir's recovered her old spark again, helping kodan in the north! Mark my words, they just put on a poorly-acted show for us, and now that we don't need it, they're just dropping the pretenses."

"Weren't you one of the ones who thought that Caithe and Eir should start a new guild, because of the difficulties with the old one?" Caoilfhionn asked skeptically.

"Well… that was then! This is after I've had some time to think about it. This is why I'm a genius. They can't hide anything from me."

He really didn't want to answer that one, because she sounded more deluded than genius. "Well, we could really use their help when we go to fight Zhaitan. They're the only ones here with experience in fighting an Elder Dragon."

"They'll be here," Phiadi said breezily. "Count on it. Hey, you! What are you doing, skulking around there? What's your clearance?"

She really kept the soldiers in line, Caoilfhionn considered. Better her than him, anyway.

The invasion began in earnest the next day. Sometimes under Trahearne's personal leadership, sometimes under the leadership of one of the commanders, the army of the Pact split into three taskforces, each to assault Orr from a different vantage. It was weary work, not aided by the weather – Trahearne commented that winter was a terrible time to be invading an island nation, even from the relatively sheltered northeast side. But they persevered, hunting down Zhaitan's lieutenants, destroying bone structures, clawing inch after inch away from the undead. And, what was more difficult, holding those inches after undead rose behind their lines and attacked their camps from all sides. Some of the Pact camps became no less fortified than Fort Trinity itself, bounded about by steel walls edged with Sylvari vines and Asuran lasers.

With Trahearne's canny leadership and existing knowledge of the place, with the Pale Reavers' experience, they had many victories and only a few defeats, though every loss was keenly felt. But after a while, Caoilfhionn was confident enough to go clambering about on the rocks and the ruins, eager to explore the land more fully himself, beginning to see – under the oil slicks, zombies, and general ruination – something of that beauty that he hoped to see fully after the dragon was gone. He never went too far from the others, but if there was a ridge to be climbed, he was going to climb it. Sometimes he went alone, sometimes he took Wegaff, who had also joined the Pact and while not thrilled about the hordes of undead, was happy to see him again. Sometimes new friends joined him, like a rambunctious Asura necromancer named Takko and a cryptic Human mesmer named Tharash.

Trahearne saw him at it one time, near Pagga's Post. "Caoilfhionn, what are you doing? Get down, you're going to hurt yourself!"

"He's fine," Damara said, and laughed. "He's like a goat, these days."

Trahearne's worry did not abate. "He does trip a lot. What if he should fall? From such a height?"

Caoilfhionn hopped down and joined them. "I don't trip anymore, though! It's funny you remember how clumsy I was when I was newly Awakened… I've learned to balance much better with all the combat I've seen since then. You need not fear for my feet or my balance at all."

"Yes, now he's all graceful and agile, a proper Orchid Prince," Damara said, teasing.

"Damara!" Caoilfhionn was certain his luminescent blush could be seen from the Charr copters, even though it was broad daylight – or as much as it ever was under the heavy clouds the dragon maintained. He was reconciled to her use of it among Hope's Legacy, but not in front of Trahearne of all people! Anyone else but Trahearne! Although anyone else might start a rumour that Trahearne might hear but now he himself already knew-!

Trahearne started. "Orchid… Prince?"

"Sorry," Damara said, and shrugged. "I forgot he didn't know about it."

Caoilfhionn buried his face in his hands. "A nickname among my siblings and my guildmates. A… well, pay it no mind. Please. I beg you."

When he dared to look up, he saw Trahearne was faintly smiling. "It suits you. Whoever chose it for you chose well. Though if it bothers you that greatly to have it said aloud, I shall forebear."

They were on a mission with the Pale Reavers, the all-Sylvari unit led by Tegwen. Caoilfhionn had recognized several faces he knew added to their numbers, not least of which was Mabbran, Phiadi's former partner.

Phiadi, of course, had attached herself to the dour Sylvari and chattered his ear off with all she had accomplished since whenever they had last met; he answered with nods and grunts – until they were attacked, and successfully held the outpost. Afterwards, they ventured out into the field together, and Caoilfhionn watched them with great curiosity as Mabbran squatted down next to a dead undead body and began ripping it apart methodically. "Look at this piece of intestine, Phiadi. It's so distorted."

"It's beautiful," Phiadi said, holding out a jar to him. "That's a good sample, we'll take that one back to the lab."

Caoilfhionn made a face. "And they say Trahearne is creepy."

Trahearne chuckled. "You say that as if I have not done similar research extensively. On as many types of Zhaitan's minions as I could acquire."

Caoilfhionn squinted at him. "Er… Yes, I suppose you have an appreciation for… Well, you did once say they were 'exquisitely horrible'."

"They are," Trahearne said matter-of-factly. "Though… set your mind at ease. I may appreciate death and its study, but I value firstly hope, and love, and life, and peace." Was it his imagination, or were those yellow eyes anxious on him?

"My mind was never uneasy," Caoilfhionn said, his heart melting. "Anyone has but to speak with you to see what you say is true. Your fascination with Orr and the undead has never bothered me." The thing that bothered him was when others allowed these things to prejudice them against him… "Though I have no strong interest in them myself." He laughed a little.

"Ah. Well." Trahearne coughed. "Good, then."

"Marshal!" Tegwen was approaching them. "The area has been secured. What are your orders?"

"Fine work," Trahearne told her. "No new orders. Establish a watch, and scouts, and send the others to rest. Tomorrow we begin the offensive to take the Temple of Lyssa."

The Temple of Lyssa was a long, slogging march away, through terrain rife for ambushes and entrenched enemy positions. It took them weeks to advance, and losses on the first half of the march were severe. Trahearne spent too much time reading casualty lists, in Caoilfhionn's opinion, and the light in his eyes when he took to the field himself with Caladbolg was grim and steely. His arms were so thin, to be wielding such a heavy sword, Caoilfhionn thought, and he wondered how heavy a burden it was for him. Yet in battle he had become truly awe-inspiring, a shining presence in the thick of combat, a quick-witted, adaptable general who knew when to take charge and when to trust his subordinates, a strong, calm voice and unstoppable will. No matter how dark the clouds pressed on them, nor how furiously the undead raged against them, Trahearne was noble, beautiful, indomitable.

At least in front of others. "It never relents," Trahearne said to him privately one night, watching the flicker of watch torches from a small hill near their camp. "I always thought I would be helping someone else win this war, not leading it myself."

"You're doing marvellously," Caoilfhionn assured him. "The way you command is truly inspiring! You have come into your own over the last few months. You might not have expected it, but you are the only one I can imagine accomplishing all this." Trahearne was silent. "No one else could speak to the heart of every race as you can. Everyone has done their part but you have done the most, bringing all of Tyria to fight as one, and look how far we've come!"

Trahearne shook his head. "Perhaps we've done as well as could possibly be expected, but I do not know how long I can continue. I am so weak and small and… and young – I may be the oldest of all Sylvari, but I against a dragon… how can I hope to prevail?"

"Trahearne," Caoilfhionn said, his chest aching to reach out to him with more than words. "I don't know what it's like to stand where you stand… but I tell you this: you may bend, but you will never break, for you are not alone! I will always be beside you, and others are too."

Finally, Trahearne smiled, but it was only with his mouth, and Caoilfhionn wondered what he was thinking. If there was any way he could convince him to fully embrace the confidence he projected.

But Trahearne, had he known Caoilfhionn's thoughts, would not have even been concerned with that. The situation was about as good as it could be, and yet he was so keenly aware of how fragile it was. The whole operation was on a knife's edge – no, thinner than a knife's edge. He'd come too far to turn back and there were no second chances if he made any mistakes. All that was left was to push to the bitter end, no matter how bitter it might ultimately be, to deliver everything he had for one precision strike upon the dragon itself.

He was gambling everything now – thousands of lives, no, the very world itself – for if they failed, who would halt the spread of the dragons' power? Who would save Lion's Arch next time? Already, the lists of those he lost were too long, and he had to find quiet time and meditate as often as he could, to keep his spirit strong. But though the fates of those who relied on him were heavy, he was most terrified of losing Hope's Legacy. Of losing Caoilfhionn. He was more popular than he'd ever been in his life before, and yet Caoilfhionn was still one of his only true friends and he loved him and he sent him into peril on a daily basis.

He was not afraid to go into battle now. No longer did the undead terrify him. Before he had only studied them. Now he slaughtered them, with Caladbolg weaving a deadly dance of purifying fire at the side of Hope's Legacy's devestating power. And no, he did not fear death. He had wondered, in the Dream the Pale Tree had given, how he could say such noble things with such confidence. Now he knew: it was his love for Caoilfhionn, the wellspring of his hope. He would face anything for his sake, die ten times over if it did the world any good, if it brought life back to Orr. While these goals burned inside him, he would not falter, though his body and soul protested, his will would not relent. So he fought on in mystical obdurance, every skill he'd ever honed over his twenty-five year life brought to its utmost. No matter what it cost, he would see this dragon slain.

The Temple of Lyssa was henceforth taken and Zhaitan's supply of minions greatly reduced, and a day afterwards Hope's Legacy and the other commanders were summoned to a secret meeting in a place called Augur's Grotto. Trahearne himself met them at the entrance, with a few Pact guard with him. "There you are! This way. Be cautious, we're still clearing out the last of the Orrians from here."

"This grotto is pretty defensible, isn't it?" Annhilda said, looking around as they came into the main cavern. "Only two ways in – this passage, and the seaway."

"Which makes it easier to be trapped in," Damara said. "Rabbits never have so few burrows…"

"I'm told star-crossed lovers used to meet here," Trahearne said, and Caoilfhionn stared, because that was random. Could he possibly…? No, he was imagining things. Trahearne was just explaining what he knew about the place, which he did often with many places they'd been through.

"I think it will need a lot of sprucing up before anyone does that anytime soon," Damara said, looking around at the bare stone and Pact barricades and tents.

Trahearne cleared his throat. "Indeed. Anyway, Doern, Wynnet, and Efut are already here, preparing the next front." He approached the higher, better-lit tent at the back of the cave. "So, what are your recommendations for our next move?"

"Full offensive, sir," Efut said immediately. "We've cut away Zhaitan's supports. Now's our chance to attack the main force, while they're still reeling."

Doern raised an eyebrow at her. "I agree, but a land-based offensive would hit where the dragon is strongest. If we attack from the sea, we'd do more damage."

"Marshal," Wynnet interjected, "we've lost contact with the squad investigating lost artifacts. I want to send in an extraction team."

"I see," Trahearne said. "We have the resources to do all three if necessary-"

After a brief interruption to beat off an attack by the undead, he continued on. "Commander Annhilda, what are your thoughts on these operations?"

The Norn smiled mischievously. "Why have one mug, when there's a whole keg?" Everyone stared at her in confusion.

Only Wynnet chuckled. "Why not, indeed?"

"I thought it was a Whispers thing to be cryptic," Rhyoll complained.

"Look, Trahearne's right, we need to do all three," Annhilda said over him. "Doern's got the best plan. We cannot besiege Arah with Zhaitan's fleet at our back. It needs to go. But if we just do that, Zhaitan will have had time to re-organize his defenses. We've got a contingent of Charr tanks, and they'll be no use at sea. Let's have Efut take them for a ride."

Rhyoll huffed. "An Asura behind the wheel? You're going to need me to keep those babies rolling."

"Splendid thinking, Commander," Efut said, ignoring him. "Will you be joining us as well?"

"I'd love to, but my sights are set on the sea. Therefore… Damara?"

"I've never ridden one of those things before," Damara said, her eyes dancing. "Rhyoll, will you show me how? I want to know all their features." She laughed, then suddenly recomposed herself, cleared her throat, and said, "I mean – as Pact Commander of the Vigil forces, I shall take command of this operation."

"Glad to be working with you, Commander," Efut said.

"Perfect," Annhilda said. "Wynnet, this artifact, are we talking about… the big…" She curved her arms, as if holding a massive ball.

"That we are, Magis- Commander," Wynnet said.

"Don't be so mysterious," Phiadi told her. "It doesn't suit you Priory types. Just because I'm Whispers, doesn't mean I don't care about artifacts of magnitude! Besides, I'll find out anyway."

"You'll be taking that mission, then?" Trahearne asked.

"Of course," Phiadi said. "A little bird told me there's a secret weapon in the works for just such an occasion and I'm itching to test it in the field."

"How'd you find out about that?" Wynnet asked.

"Trade secret," Phiadi said.

"And… me?" Caoilfhionn asked, putting a finger up.

"I want you with me, pup," Annhilda said. "The fleet isn't small, and the heavier we hit it, the fewer problems we'll have."

"And I don't need you," Phiadi said. "I'm a whole squad by myself."

"Everyone happy?" Annhilda said. "Marshal?"

Trahearne nodded gratefully. "You certainly are all decisive. And agreeable."

"That's why you made us commanders," Phiadi said. "And that's why we made a guild. We get things done."

"Doern, I want to talk to you," Annhilda said. "What's our current intel on the fleet?"

"I'm jealous, Commander," said Arda Gyreshriek, the Charr pilot flying Phiadi to her destination. "You get to pilot the meanest battlesuit ever built right into Zhaitan's backyard."

Phiadi giggled, still admiring her new toy. "You should be. I've heard great things about it. Can't wait to put it to the test."

"You're outfitted with the finest weaponry in the Pact," Arda gushed. "Energy beams and ballistics, offense and defense, cased in Deldrimor steel. You're a walking murder machine."

"As I should be," Phiadi said. "Don't forget the teleporter based on Inquest research based on my translocator research."

"Right! Oh, neat, so you're really familiar with the tech. Here comes the drop zone. Good luck, and give Zhaitan my regards."

Five minutes later, Phiadi was cackling like a hyena as she blasted through seething hordes of undead, melting through armour and bone alike with the massive beam on her armour's chest. "Ahahahahaha! Hahahahahahahaha! Die, you pathetic mindless insects! Dieeee! Hahahaha!"

"Should we go in, sir?" asked a soldier on a ridge nearby.

Laranthir of the Wild watched the rampaging battlesuit a moment longer through binoculars. "I think not. Let the Commander have her fun. …For our own safety."

"Enjoying yourself?" Damara called into the back of the tank as it grumbled its way across the low dunes of western Orr. Her hawk, Lina, preened herself on her shoulder.

Rhyoll's chuckle echoed out of the dark, smokey depths. "These babies are sweet! Good to be working around proper engineering again! And best of all, I don't have to walk, hahaha."

"Yeah, you had a bit of trouble before, didn't you?"

"Malchor's Leap sucked engine grease for me. I should've waited behind for these to show up rather than slowing you all down."

"Nonsense!" Damara said. "You didn't slow us down. If you hadn't been there, who would've shot a rocket at that giant zombie chicken?"

"Heheheh. That was a pretty fine moment, wasn't it. How are you doing up there?"

"I'm doing fine," Damara said. "Wind in my face, and the way it joggles over the rocks is fun. Hitting anything hostile is going to be extra hard, though."

"I know you like a challenge!"

"Not as much as you do! -Heads up, or down, we've got incoming!"

"No one mourns your death! No one…" The undead sniper had fallen, victim of Elli's heartbroken rage, and now she and her hologram fell to her knees, weeping over Zott's fallen form.

Caoilfhionn stood near, his chest aching for her, and yet he was not crushed with grief. It alarmed him – was he becoming used to death, or had he simply not known Zott well enough to be overcome as he had with Sieran and Tonn? He wiped his eyes and turned away to give her some privacy, and saw that Pact reinforcements had arrived.

Lines of tanks had rolled up on a ruined road from inland, rows of infantry marching behind them, and down at the shore, a fleet of Pact ships and submarines had landed, even more infantry disembarking, with a familiar straight wiry figure at their head. A third group was arriving from due north, a smaller group, and he saw Phiadi and Laranthir with them. Damara and Rhyoll hopped off a tank and came over to them as well.

"Good to see you," Annhilda said as the guild came together. "I trust your missions were successful?"

"One hundred percent," Phiadi said. "Of course. Well, we lost our pilot, but she went down fighting. You must have heard the explosions from here."

"Vaguely," Annhilda said. "I think we were a bit preoccupied with the trebuchets."

"We had some trouble, but we've brought the firepower," Damara said.

"Any remaining groundpounding minions of Zhaitan better watch out!" Rhyoll said. "You don't look too happy, Caoilfhionn."

Caoilfhionn looked back at Elli, still weeping where she sat. "We lost a good friend. We almost made it through all together…"

"You lost someone?" Trahearne had arrived and joined them. "Good work bringing the Pact this far. But who was it?"

"Zott," Caoilfhionn said. "He and Elli were becoming closer… It's… painful to lose him."

"I understand," Trahearne said, and after a brief pause, made his way over to Elli. "Elli, you have my sincere condolences. Agent Zott died a hero, and his sacrifice will be remembered."

"He was a great inventor, and a good friend," Annhilda said.

Elli sniffled mightily and scrubbed tears from her eyes, looking up at them all. "He was an irascible old crackpot and you know it. …I… I don't want to believe he's gone. I don't think I really knew what it meant to fight for Tyria. Everyone said, 'this is war, and there's no turning back.' I couldn't appreciate what that meant, but now I know. It means loss, and pain, and sadness, but it also means hope."

"You're right," Trahearne said, looking at Caoilfhionn, and he nodded.

"I won't give up, and I won't turn back," Elli said. "Even when Zott thought I was gone, he kept searching for me. I'll keep him alive too – with my inventions."

"You'll have a chance to do that," Trahearne said. "The Pact isn't turning back, either. We're going to defeat Zhaitan, once and for all. …Excuse me." He bowed to her, and gestured to Hope's Legacy to gather around, leading them a little away so they could confer again in private. "It's good to see all five of you still in one piece. I will need you all for an important mission tomorrow."

"What is it?" Annhilda asked.

"The Priory and I have developed a ritual that we think could cleanse Orr," Trahearne said, and Caoilfhionn's eyes widened. "We just need to get Caladbolg to the proper spot."

"And what spot is that?" Caoilfhionn asked.

He thought he saw the ghost of a smile pass over Trahearne's face. "Do you remember the Azabe Qabar royal crypt, from the Dream? We're going there."

"The Dream?" Rhyoll asked skeptically. "You went to Orr in a dream?"

"The Dream," Caoilfhionn corrected him. "I'm not quite sure of my bearings from here, but…"

"A bit further south," Trahearne said, saving him from floundering. "I'm selecting an assault team to support us, but I want Hope's Legacy with me. This is… too important to me not to have the very best with me."

"You'll have it, sir," Annhilda said, smiling. "We're with you, wherever you go."

"Thank you," Trahearne said. "Get some rest, then. Dismissed."

But he found Caoilfhionn later, after dinner, on the edge of the camp. The clouds, for once, had cleared, letting the moonlight strike the land feebly, and yet it was as if the very sky were oily and diseased. Still, in the distance Caoilfhionn could dimly make out vast shapes towering impossibly high into the sky that he knew could only be the city of Arah – and they were so close to it, and drawing closer by the day.

Trahearne came up beside him. "How are you doing?"

Caoilfhionn looked down from the sky in surprise. "I'm fine. How are you?"

"That's good," Trahearne said. "I had thought you might be grieving."

"Oh." Caoilfhionn thought about it, but though he had been wounded by Zott's death, it was a shallow wound. "I don't know… Is there something wrong with me? I feel like I should be as inconsolable as I was with Tonn, but I am not. I can bear it. Am I becoming too used to death?"

"I don't think so, not in the way that you fear," Trahearne said. "In a way, we all are – we cannot help it – but I think you only did not know him as well as Tonn."

"I did not," Caoilfhionn acknowledged. "But I feel for Elli… And yet she has such strength! To go on, after such a horrible blow – to gain and lose her lover in the same instant…" Fear surged into his stomach. If Trahearne were to die in this quest… he would not be able to go on the way Elli was. He would not be able to speak of hope and of life lessons, even if he happened to also know that Elli hadn't gone to dinner and had been weeping the rest of the day even as she threw herself into work.

He ought to say something soon, even if his chances were non-existent. Just to have it said, and known, before it was too late. But this moment was not the right one, and he hoped Trahearne would not comment on his fear that he could surely sense. "You never said – how are you?"

"I'm quite well, all things considered," Trahearne said. "I'm very glad we made it this far. Things are going frighteningly well, though we had other losses. …Tegwen was one of them."

Caoilfhionn gasped. "Not Tegwen! How?"

"She gave a signal to the tank column to destroy a temple where the undead were gathering. There was an equipment malfunction, I understand, and she was killed in the bombardment."

"No…" This wound cut deeper. With an effort, he swallowed it. He didn't have the luxury now that he'd had before. He had to wait until there was not desperate deeds in his immediate future. "I should go find Carys… if she wishes company."

"She might."

"How do you feel about tomorrow?" Caoilfhionn changed the subject abruptly, eager to speak of something that might give him more cheer – Trahearne himself.

Trahearne inhaled, exhaled. "Excited. Nervous, even. Jittery, almost."

"You never get jittery," Caoilfhionn said in wonder. "But we'll be with you tomorrow. We'll help you see it through."

"I know," Trahearne said. "I'm counting on it."

"I was a little surprised when you said it was the next mission, actually," Caoilfhionn said. "I had thought with the dragon dead, there would be leisure enough for healing the land, and if we failed to kill the dragon, it would soon corrupt the land again, so why…?"

"The dragon draws power from the land," Trahearne explained. "We've taken its supply of magic, its supply of new minions… if we can sever its very hold over the land itself, all we will be left with is a dragon. No mean opponent, of course, but not quite as terrifying as otherwise."

"Ahh. I see."

"You'll get your chance yet, don't worry."

"I wasn't worried," Caoilfhionn, then realized Trahearne had been teasing him deadpan. "Er. Well, you should sleep. If you can." He would go find Carys before he tried to sleep, himself.

"I shall make an attempt," Trahearne said. "Good night, Caoilfhionn."

"Good night, Trahearne."