Soon after the incident in the barracks Arlen escorted her out. She was badly shaken by the whole thing, worse than he had ever seen her. He figured that she should lie down for a while but she insisted on going somewhere else. They went to the training grounds meant for the castle guards and began hacking away at one of the training dummies they had set up.

Her fierce strikes shook the leather and straw dummy to its wooden core. Her heavy sword slowed her movements somewhat, but it also made her strikes hit harder. After several minutes she actually managed to break the dummy in half, much to the shock of Arlen. She was stronger than he thought she was.

Next to Arlen sat Artsanna, watching Lynde the same as him. He was somewhat surprised when she shared her thoughts with him. I should have been there, she said to him. I should have been there to help her, to save her. Instead that man threatened her life, and I am to blame.

"No you're not," Arlen said. "You wouldn't have been able to do much that we didn't."

Perhaps not, but still…

"I can hear you, Artsanna," Lynde said, not evening looking at her but instead the ground. "It's not your fault; how could it be when it is mine?"

Arlen, concerned, stepped towards her. "How is it your fault?"

"I started this war," she said. "I made this happen. If it weren't for me, this war never would have gone for as long as it did." Lynde looked to the sky and said, "It took me this long to figure it out. You must think I'm an idiot, but here it is, the big truth that's obvious to everyone but the thick-headed adopted girl who was lucky a Shade happened to give her a Dragon egg or it never would have come to her: King Orrin started the war for me.

"He waited for just an opportunity like this—like me—to start a war he had been planning for years. He wanted some soft-headed figurehead to lead his rebellion to victory, and I was the perfect one. He probably doesn't even care about Magicians. I'm such an idiot!"

"Don't say that!" Arlen warned. She turned to him with tears and confusion in her eyes. "Don't call anyone that, especially not yourself. I didn't catch this and neither did Rose, Artsanna, or your father. And it's not whether you're smart or not that gives you worth." What he said next had been building up for some time, and he had been unsure of how or when to say it, but now it just flowed out of him. "I've seen smart, manipulating men who you're worth a hundred of. You know what is right and what is wrong, which is more than most people can say. I am proud to know you and to help you in what you do, no matter what it is."

Lynde smiled through her tears. "You really mean all that?"

"If I didn't, why would I say it?" he replied.

She smiled. "Thank you, Arlen, for coming with me so far," Lynde said. "I know that you had better things to do than this, and I thank you for protecting me without any thought of yourself."

Arlen suddenly felt nervous. He'd kept the truth from her so that it wouldn't worry her, but now he just had to tell her. "I didn't come here just for you."

As Lynde dried her tears with her sleeve she asked in a very concerned manner, "Then why?"

"Don't get me wrong, I did want to protect you. It's just that there's another reason." He took a breath and said, "The Riders sent me to protect you."

Lynde actually smiled. "The Riders?"

"Yes. They promised me a favor in exchange for this favor," Arlen said. He felt something melt off his shoulders like snow in summer. It was the same feeling he felt whenever he revealed a closely guarded secret, like this one. "I don't know if I would have done it without their offer. I'm sorry for keeping the truth from you."

"Well, I'm certainly glad I'm under the protection of the Riders," Lynde said. "I thought I might have lost their favor."

"Actually it's just Kaesdir who wanted me to do this, but he's second in command so…"

Her smile widened. "Well that's awfully nice of him. But why did he think I needed protection?"

Before he could say anything a servant not much older than twelve came by and said, "Mistress Lynde, Mistress Trianna has arrived and has asked for an audience with you."

"Alright," Lynde said. "Come on, Arlen."

"I'm sorry," the servant boy said, "but she asked specifically to meet with you alone. I suppose it wouldn't be too bad if you came along, Master Arlen, but you will have to wait outside."

Arlen frowned. He didn't like the idea of leaving Lynde for any long amount of time, as an assassin could sneak in and kill her. But he realized that both of them were magicians, and if Trianna was here then she might be part of the rebellion, considering she might have escaped from Dras-Blöthr and was hiding out from the Empire here. And if he needed any more convincing, he just had to look at the training dummy she broke in half. He went along with it, begrudgingly, and followed Lynde to her meeting.

It seemed to him that her meeting would be in the very same hall that they had their dinner in when they first came to Petrøvya, or at least he thought it was—the entrances looked the same. He let Lynde go in and took his place outside with two men who didn't look as if they were part of the castle guard. They were heavily armed though, and their boots were covered in dirt so it could be assumed that they were tasked with guarding Trianna. She must have been important to warrant such guards.

He began to try to figure out the most effective way to kill them—for practice mostly—when he felt a presence knocking on the walls of his mind. It was not Artsanna but someone else. It was Rose and she was saying, Lynde is in danger!

Arlen was called to action by that and she drew his sword. "Come on, Lynde is in danger!" he said to the guards, but instead of being motivated to go in they turned their weapons towards him. It didn't take him long to realize that they must have been enemies. "If you do not let me pass, I may be forced to kill you."

One of them laughed while the other swung his mace at Arlen. He tried to parry, but it was rather difficult. He decided to block the next one, but that hit him harder than he thought it would. His right shoulder dislocated—the one that had been originally wounded during his ride to Aberon. The blow had been enough to jostle it loose again, and he screamed.

He switched sword hands and slashed his opponent across the torso, felling him. As Arlen looked to the other one he realized that this fight would be harder than he thought.