Chapter 31

It was not easy for the priest to do his work in the clearing outside Baphomet's cave. What with the frequent watching to see if the great monster would emerge from his lair any moment and the repeated requests to hurry up he eventually gave up.

'I can't do anything here,' he said, looking down at his charge. 'Besides, I don't think you'd call this hygienic. We need to find a place to do this properly, and in peace.'

'Are you sure he won't follow us?' said Eni worriedly.

'Wh-- oh, right. No, I don't think he'll come after us.' Samaroh got to his feet. 'Come on, help me out on this.'

It took them some time, but eventually they found a small empty village. No monster had plundered it yet - it still looked as if it was occupied. All that stood out from it was its emptiness and the gloom that blanketed the world.

They picked the nearest house and immediately set about to clearing it up. Samaroh ignored them and had Valkron moved into a room. Then he simply requested for about three basins of water - 'or in whatever you can find, as long it's that much' were his words - and shut the door resolutely in Iruna's face. They waited anxiously outside and around the house.

No one knew how long it took, but it felt like eternity. Samaroh was the only one in the party who owned a pocket watch - they knew it because anyone who stood near him would hear a soft ticking sound, and sometimes he would take it out cupped in his palm and wind it up again. Without the watch they were not too sure what time it was, but the priest had told them it wasn't very accurate.

Nocturne glanced up at the small clock on the table on the landing outside the room. It had stopped completely because there had been no one to wind it. He sighed and resumed pacing the room.

Amaru calmly lit a cigarette and pulled on it, gazing at a point somewhere above Khan's head. The assassin was standing next to the window and staring unblinkingly out of it, arms folded across his chest. He had taken off his sakkhat and pulled down his mask, looking completely like a normal person.

Eni sat on a chair on the corner of the landing. Her lunatic slept in her lap, occasionally twitching an ear as she stroked it vaguely, her violet eyes unfocused and down.

Iruna was leaning against the wall next to the door of the room, one hand resting on the hilt of her sheathed sword and the other on her massive shield, which was propped up against the wall beside her. She glanced at Emeth, who was standing on the other side of the door like her, eyes closed.

The atmosphere was growing thick with tension. When Samaroh finally came out he looked around at the silent party in surprise. Iruna caught his attention. She looked at him worriedly. There was no need to ask.

'He'll be fine,' said the priest, wiping his hands on the rag he usually carried with him. 'But he'll need a few days to recover. Even though he's extremely fit and quite strong those injuries won't be healing so quickly. Some were quite deep, to be truthful. And he lost a considerable amount of blood, I should say.'

'You make it sound worse than it is,' said Eni, but it was clear she was relieved to hear what Samaroh had to say.

'I'm telling you the truth, there's no need to say things like that,' said Samaroh irritably. 'Whatever I am, it's not in my nature to lie.'

Emeth and Iruna did not comment. As the others moved away, the relief in the room palpable, they exchanged looks and swiftly entered the room, shutting the door gently behind them.

In the darkness of the room the wizard quietly lit a stump of candle and set it next to the bed in its holder. The little pool of light it gave out was barely enough to light the room but it was better than nothing. It was only when Iruna, exploring the room for want of something to do, found a small ceiling oil lamp that gave out much better light.

They stood in silence by the bed and looked down. Without his armour and in his pallor Valkron looked like any normal man. Somehow his aggressive, aloof demeanour was reduced to almost nothing when he was asleep or unconscious.

Eventually Emeth broke the silence. 'I have no idea why, but most knights don't behave like him.'

'Because they're not him,' said Iruna evenly, not looking at the wizard.

'No, I don't mean that. For a knight of the Prontera Chivalry - and a mercenary at that - he's got ideals I've never thought of in the least.' Emeth tapped his cheek with his staff thoughtfully. 'And for someone who's stayed alone for a long time he seems to know what to expect from people.'

'I guess it's experience then,' said Iruna, still not looking at Emeth. 'I'm not surprised.'

'But even if they weren't in their right minds no one would have done what he did. Almost a day's battling with Baphomet nonstop, without backup...that's called suicidal. Who'd do it?'

After a few minutes Iruna looked up at the wizard. 'I think I understand,' she said slowly. 'Whatever Valkron's gone through has made him probably hate himself. Why do you think he always says, "Better me than you"? He'd rather die than let others. He doesn't value his own life but he wants others to live. Basically,' she looked down at the knight again, 'he sacrifices what he has...for others.'

'And I thought he just had an inferiority complex,' said Emeth, after a moment's thinking.

'He's fine,' said the crusader. 'There's nothing wrong with him, nothing at all. We just had to understand what he believes in, and what he knows.'

The wizard looked at the sleeping knight. 'Well, it'll take me ages to get to know him,' he said, 'but you seem to understand just by his actions. I'm amazed.'

'Looks like you still won't be able to understand women no matter how handsome you are,' said the crusader. She grinned at his expression. 'From my point of view, that is.'

Emeth gave her a look. 'I'm sure about it. I'm going to go and get myself a place to sleep before the others get all the nice warm places. See you tomorrow...or when I wake up.'

Iruna watched the wizard go before turning back to look at the knight. In the flickering light of the candle flame she thought he looked more gentle and less stern. She looked around her. The door was closed.

Hesitantly she pulled off her glove and reached out. The tips of her fingers touched Valkron's face.

Vanodar.

She pulled her hand away. The memory was still fresh in her mind, and the scar still seared in her heart.

What am I thinking? He'll never accept me for what I feel. Men are all like that...and I can't trust them anymore.

With a last glance she turned away, fitting her glove back on. She walked out as if she was glad to leave the room, but her face still remained sad and regretful.

Footsteps echoed in the passageway. Valkron tried to soften this noise, but eventually gave up. Even a knight who specialised in speed would never be able to silence the metal shoes that were part of their armour. He found an unlit torch and set it on fire with his Magnum Break before continuing his journey in the dark.

It seemed like it would take forever. The light of the torch did not reach far into the passageway. By the looks of it no one had challenged Baphomet for a long time - cobwebs hung thickly from the ceiling while stalagmites had risen from the stone in the middle of the passageway.

Finally the passage opened up into a great cave. Valkron straightened up and raised his torch. As far as he could tell he was in an old hall. He could make out the tall stone pillars towering above him, with elaborate carvings on them. Bringing his torch down he could see a sunken circular depression in the middle of the hall at the bottom of a series of steps. This he went down, his shoes clinking loudly in the silence.

The circle had looked smaller at the stop of the steps. Valkron went over to a large gong standing at the side and fitted the torch into a small bracket next to the great brass instrument. Then he hit the gong with the back of his hand.

The sound reverberated through the hall. Valkron strode slowly over to the centre of the circle, keeping an eye on the gaping hole on the other side, hand on sword. He did not have to wait long; within minutes there was the sound of massive hooves on the marble.

It was quite a sight to see Baphomet. The great goat was eight feet tall and towered over Valkron easily. Even in the dim light of the torch he could see the powerful muscles rippling under the shaggy fur.

The beast looked down its long nose at him. Valkron looked up coolly, hoping that his fear was not showing on his face.

Baphomet's nostrils dilated as he exhaled. Valkron leaned back in the breath that followed. It wasn't bad - it was similar to a small gale.

'Interesting,' rumbled Baphomet. 'In such troubled times you dare to challenge me?'

'Yes,' said the knight.

'I am sure you have better things to do, human.' Valkron felt his hair ruffle backwards as the last word was spoken. 'Leave or I will be forced to kill you for intruding my home.'

'You have something I seek,' said the knight loudly. 'I will not leave until I have it from you.'

At this Baphomet threw back his shaggy head and laughed hugely. Dust and debris fell from the ceiling as the sound shook the hall.

'Human, what makes you think you can defeat me so easily? And what would you want from? Fame? There is no fame to be gained from fighting me. It is not an honourable battle.'

'I don't wish to fight you for fame, Baphomet,' said Valkron, bowing his head slightly. 'I have no wish for it. It brings me nothing. You have something I want, and I will fight for it so that I may have a better chance at resolving these troubled times.'

The goat gave Valkron a look. Then he snorted. 'If your intention is pure then maybe you will live. I see you do not want to change your mind. Let the battle begin!'

He slammed the end of his scythe into the ground. Immediately torches set into the pillars around the hall lit up. Valkron could now see the depression for what it was - an arena. He spotted a few human skulls here and there, but there was no time to enjoy the scenery.

Baphomet charged, scythe low. Valkron drew his sword in one swift flick of his wrist. Blades crashed, the sound echoing sharply. For a moment Valkron feared his sword would break under the force of Baphomet's blow, but it gained only a scratch.

Valkron was not too sure how long the battle lasted, but he knew it took a long time. Baphomet's strength was unbelievable; halfway into the battle the knight's arms were aching from the parrying and the blocking he had done. He had almost collapsed under the impact of the blows several times, but each time he struggled to hold it and he did.

Baphomet brought his scythe down again. Valkron swung his sword up and felt the shock through his arms. He grunted with the effort of holding it, and with as much force as he could muster threw Baphomet's scythe off.

The goat was suprised. 'Impressive,' he rumbled as he took a step back. 'No man or woman has ever thrown me off their weapons until you.'

Valkron muttered a bad word under his breath. His arms were shaking badly from that last blow. It was because of this that when Baphomet swung his scythe Valkron was unable to stop it and was thrown off his feet onto the wall. Luckily it was the flat side of the scythe that hit him.

The knight got to his feet, breathing heavily. Baphomet moved so easily, as if he was in water. Valkron could feel his back ache but he ignored it. For now he had to fight. He had to win.

The ground shook as Baphomet charged. Valkron set his sword ablaze and actually threw off the scythe. Then he threw himself low and scored a cut on one of the great beast's hind legs. Baphomet snarled and swung his scythe downwards, but Valkron was already gone.

As the knight aimed he felt the darkness within him rise. He forced it down and focused on his battle. Now was not the time. He had no intention - and certainly knew he did not want to - of killing the beast. Rune-Midgard might consider him the biggest pest of the kingdom, but the beast was there for a reason and Valkron liked to keep the balance intact.

However it was not easy. Every time he saw blood it rose, fighting to control him. Valkron almost screamed with frustration at the two battles going on simultaneously, until he eventually lost concentration for one moment.

He paid dearly for the lapse. Baphomet hit out. Valkron was thrown on the wall sideways, and while he tried to get up with his head spinning he could feel something warm and wet run down the side of his face. The smell of iron reached his nostrils and he nearly retched.

The knight tried to focus on Baphomet again. His head throbbed horribly and his vision blurred. How could he fight like this? He had no way of winning.

Valkron growled at himself for thinking like that. Baphomet hit out. The knight struck the scythe so hard that the goat actually skidded backwards slightly.

After a long time Valkron knew his body was unable to hold on. Argath's mark taunted and distracted him mercilessly, causing him to sustain numerous injuries. He felt aching all over and he could see he was leaving a trail of blood spots wherever he went. Baphomet had thrown him against the wall over and over again; he was sure he had a few broken ribs.

But he could not stop fighting. He willed himself to go on, and as he did he felt an irresistible heat rise within him. His heart lifted - it was not the darkness this time, but his own body responding.

He snarled and resumed fighting, this time seeing the world through a red mist. If anyone had been with him they would have been shocked to see his red eyes. It was a normal state swordsmen worked themselves into sometimes, although Valkron avoided it most of the time because the state often made them go mad and they ended up killing their own mates.

Baphomet narrowed his eyes at the sight of the berserk knight and then charged. This time Valkron hit forcefully and angrily. The goat was pushed back towards the hole from whence he came.

'Commendable,' said Baphomet, suddenly stepping backwards to avoid Valkron's blazing sword. 'But now it must end!'

Valkron looked up. Baphomet swung his scythe.

It was over within seconds. When the knight hit the wall he knew it was the last blow he could withstand. He slid down it, leaving a smudge of blood as he did and slumped at the base. It was too much for him.

He felt the ground shake beneath him as Baphomet approached him. Weakly he lifted his head and looked up into the beast's red eyes. His berserk state had lifted, leaving him as a human again.

There was silence. Then Baphomet said, 'Why did you seek to fight me? You are no match for me.'

Valkron coughed. 'I wanted...your scythe.'

Baphomet looked surprised. 'You...wanted my scythe? Whatever for?'

'It would have given me...a better chance...against the darkness...' Valkron gasped the last word out; he was far too tired to speak properly any longer.

For a few minutes the goat watched him. Then he said, 'What is your name?'

Valkron looked up at him suspiciously. This was probably a trick...but what other choice did he have? He was entirely at the mercy of the lord of the darkness.

'Valkron,' he said hoarsely.

Baphomet hrumphed. 'And you fought me all for my scythe. Well then, Valkron, I was not entirely ignorant of your condition throughout the battle. You were fighting two battles at the same time, and you got this far.'

Valkron couldn't believe what he was hearing.

'You are the only human who has fought me not for fame, not for money, but to gain the privilege of wielding the most feared weapon in Rune-Midgard. And it is only to fight back against the darkness that threatens to control our world, not to defeat your foes. For your world you are willing to give your life.'

'You can't be telling me...that I won...?' said Valkron weakly.

'You did not win, Valkron. Not in terms of the battle. But those who have won battles with me have gained nothing. There was something else you defeated, and that was yourself. It is the greatest enemy you could have ever fought, and for that I give you my scythe.'

The knight stared as the Baphomet laid the massive weapon at his feet. He could not stop staring. He thought he had failed.

'And even I, the lord of darkness, think that you should not be plagued with such a thing within you. You do not deserve it. Therefore let me take it from you, and be free.'

Baphomet lifted his great clawed hand and pointed at Valkron's forehead. The knight felt a bitter sensation rise through him and gasped as it emerged from his forehead in the form of noxious purple fumes. Baphomet sapped it away and got to his hooves.

'Farewell, Valkron,' he rumbled, turning back to his hole. 'You have done well.'

And those were the last words Valkron remembered that night.

He opened his eyes. There seemed to be a yellow light above him. It hurt his eyes, so he closed them.

That was the only thing he remembered, so far. He had no idea how he had come to be in a bed. Of course, the bandages wrapped so tightly around his various appendages were obviously the work of Samaroh, but how did they get him out of there? Had they been so worried about him that they eventually went into the cave and got him out?

Valkron opened his eyes again, this time a little more cautiously. His eyes adjusted to the light by degrees, so eventually he managed to leave his eyes open.

The first thing he noticed was that he was in a room that looked quite proper. He was puzzled at this. Hadn't everyone been evacuated already?

Valkron felt quite warm and snug in the bed, although he ached in some places. He raised a hand to his head and felt the thick, soft linen wound around it. It felt slightly soggy; he did not doubt that the cut on his head had healed that fast.

Very slowly he attempted to sit up. The first few stages went well, but then as he straightened up a sharp jab of pain sent him lying down again. He lay in the bed, wondering how bad his injuries were.

As he thought in silence the door to the room suddenly opened, and Samaroh walked in. The priest was carrying his pack with him and looked quite indifferent to what he was doing. It was only when he saw Valkron did he drop his pack in surprise.

'By Odi-- Valkron, how're you feeling?' The priest sat down next to him.

'Not so bad,' admitted the knight. 'But I think a few days' rest would do.'

'You've already been having a rest,' said Samaroh. 'It's been three days since you battled with Baphomet. You've been asleep the whole time.'

Valkron stared at him. 'You're kidding me.'

'Do I look like I fib on a regular basis?' said the priest irritably. 'Why do people keep assuming I tell lies?'

'But we've got to get to the portal soon!'

'Emeth says not to worry, though. Don't ask me why.' Samaroh got up and picked his pack up. 'All right, no more questions till I'm done. I need to change your dressings.'

Valkron sank into the bed and let the priest do it. Samaroh worked quickly and efficiently, his long fingers deftly unwinding the bloodstained bandages, cleaning the wounds and binding them with fresh linen. Although he worked fast there were so many of them that it took quite a long time for him to finish.

As he worked away Valkron asked him, 'How did I get here?'

'You came out of the cave on your own,' answered the priest. 'Then, seeing that you needed more than a bed of grass, we scouted for a place and Nocturne spotted this little village.'

'I...came out on my own?'

'Yep. You were a right mess. Had us all in shock with you trailing blood and bleeding all over like that. It was amazing.' Samaroh tightened a bandage; Valkron winced. 'And the fact that you actually got the scythe as well.'

'For how long did I battle?'

'Can't say for sure, but I take a guess at between fifteen to twenty hours.'

Valkron stayed silent. Samaroh looked at him worriedly.

'You okay?'

'Hm? Oh, I'm fine.' The knight tried to sit up again, and this time he succeeded. Samaroh steadied him. 'Just thinking how crazy I was to do that.'

'That was what we said in the first place,' said the priest. 'But frankly I'm glad you made it out alive.'

Valkron stayed silent at this. Samaroh, seeing his silence, gave him a pat on the shoulder and left the room, closing the door behind him quietly and leaving the knight in thought.

After a few minutes the door opened again. 'Valkron?'

The knight looked up, jolted out of his thoughts, at Emeth. The wizard was blinking worriedly. He could see the golden eyes and the expression in them.

'Hello, Emeth,' he said softly.

Emeth came in warily, closing the door behind him. 'Samaroh told us you were awake, but he didn't want all of us to go in. Said you were too tired to talk to all of us in one go.'

Valkron was glad Samaroh had said that. He didn't think he could take on five people in his room.

'Thank him for me for that, will you?' he said, watching the wizard take the seat the priest had previously occupied.

'Yeah, I will,' said Emeth, clearly too distracted about Valkron to listen properly. 'You okay? Seriously?'

Valkron smiled. 'Yeah, I am. Just tired.'

Emeth did not look convinced, but he settled for it anyway. He sighed. 'We were so worried that you wouldn't get through it alive and in one piece. Iruna set up watches so that we could keep an eye on anything coming our way...especially you.'

'She set them up?'

'Yeah...actually, I think that was the main reason for setting up the watches. And when you came out all covered in dirt and blood we couldn't believe it.'

'Mm.' Valkron leaned against the wall behind the headboard of the bed. Emeth's voice comforted him.

'Samaroh was sending us out and getting us to get stuff for him, but eventually he said the forest floor wasn't the best place for you, so he got Khan and me to carry you while Nocturne went and looked for a place. He found this village and we got over here.'

'Wasn't I a bit heavy to carry?'

'Heavy? Are you kidding me? You were...well, let's just say we were thinking of Amaru's cart, but Samaroh refused point-blank.' Emeth had the decency to look embarrassed.

Valkron didn't seem bothered by it. 'How did you manage then?'

'Oh, we got some armour off you and then bullied Nocturne into supporting you. Still wasn't easy, though. I swear your shin armour left bruises on my arms.' Emeth sat back in his chair and sighed. 'But we got you here, and Samaroh set to work on you. He was right when he predicted you wouldn't be able to get up for a few days.'

No answer.

'You are one hell of an amazing guy, you know that? I've never met anyone who could ever solo Baphomet just for his scythe. I admire you, Valkron, I really do.'

No answer.

Emeth became aware that the knight wasn't answering and looked properly. He relaxed and smiled a little. Then he got up and adjusted the blanket before leaving the room quietly.

Valkron had fallen asleep.

Valkron recovered fairly quickly and eventually he was able to walk around. He had to get used to the fact that the party, who were waiting for him to recover, had taken off most of their working clothes. It had been a first for him - especially Iruna.

'What, you've never seen what a crusader wears under his or her clothes? I thought you'd know, being a knight and everything.'

Valkron laughed a little. 'Crusader and knight are two entirely different professions, you know.'

'Doesn't mean you have to be completely ignorant of it,' she said, winking at Emeth. The wizard was grinning.

'Oh, come on I can't be expected to know everything-- Emeth, stop sniggering or I will go over there and see how far your staff can go up your nostril,' warned the knight. 'Iruna, give me some allowance.'

'You never did for us,' said the crusader.

Valkron opened his mouth, and then shut it. Then he opened his mouth again to ask, 'Is it me or am I being played around here for the fun of it?'

Iruna laughed. 'What do you think?'

Valkron threw his hands into the air. 'I give up.'

The crusader patted him on the back. She was wearing blue trousers and a thin blue shirt that was padded at the shoulders. Completely devoid of armour, she was a completely different picture to him.

It was difficult for him to realise what the feelings deep in him meant as well. He had never felt more complicated before, and merely thinking about it exhausted him. Emeth just thought he was occupied with the portal and left him to it.

Finally Valkron gave up and wandered outside with Baphomet's scythe in his hands, fully dressed. Most of his injuries had healed completely and he felt a lot better.

He tried out the scythe. It was just the right weight for him, and it balanced perfectly. He marvelled at it as he twirled it in his hands. It was no wonder everyone coveted the crescent scythe so much - such a weapon could be so perfect.

'How does it feel?' said a voice.

After Valkron was sure his heart had not leapt out of his mouth he turned around. Iruna was standing in the snow, fully dressed and armed.

'You try it for yourself,' he said, throwing her the weapon.

She caught it deftly and swung it around. Her eyes widened. 'Tyr's beard,' she breathed, 'this is amazing.'

'I know. It was worth it, after all.' Valkron went up to her and took the scythe. 'I wonder who made it for him.'

'I have no idea about that, but I'd like to know too,' she said, her breath forming in front of her mouth.

The knight ran his fingers up and down the black wood handle of the scythe. It was smooth and polished. Samaroh had actually washed it free of the blood encrusted on it and let it dry away from the snow.

'If I had to die by this weapon,' he mused aloud, 'I'd do it gladly.'

'Oh, you,' said Iruna. 'We're going to tackle the portal and you had to say that, didn't you?'

'Sorry.'

As they stood in silence Valkron felt something soft and cold touch his cheek. He looked up to see small white specks floating out of the sky.

'Snow,' said Iruna. 'Not the freakish ones.'

The snow fell around them softly. They watched, one knight, one crusader, standing together.

'Something beautiful happens,' said Valkron, 'when we're so close to doing what we have to do.'

'It's like the gods are sending us off,' said Iruna somewhat dreamily.

'Now who's talking about being unlucky?' demanded Valkron, but the effect wasn't there. It was all taken in by the softness of the snowflakes around them.

After a while Iruna sighed. 'It's lovely, but we can't stand out here all day and watch. We've got things to do.'

'Mm-hm,' said Valkron.

She looked at him. 'You really meant that, did you?'

'What?'

'About not standing around and watching the snow?'

When he nodded she sighed. 'You never learn how to relax, do you?'

Valkron was completely taken aback by this, but he rallied magnificently. 'Wha-- look, no, wait. I do relax. This just isn't my way of taking time off.'

'What, not watching the snow?'

Valkron sighed. 'I don't think this would be the time to anyway. We've got to get moving.'

'You really should learn how to appreciate little things around you,' said Iruna reproachfully. 'You should.'

Valkron gaped at her. How did they talk about snowflakes to this in a few seconds? He'd completely lost track of the topic. He gave himself a mental shake.

'I do appreciate small things,' he said. 'It's not like I don't.'

'Like what?'

Valkron mouthed, lost for words at this grilling he was receiving. Then he said, 'I appreciate that you're standing here with me enjoying a little time before we start fighting all over again with the remotest chance of us ever seeing each other at the end of the battle.'

It was Iruna's turn to gape at him. She managed to say, after a few minutes, 'And is that sincerely from you, or is that just the knight talking?'

'It's from me!' said the knight hotly.

'Really?'

'Yes!'

'And if I asked you why would you tell me, honestly and to your word as a knight?' she said.

'Is this a trick question?' said Valkron, a few minutes later.

'No.'

Iruna sighed. 'Once and for all, Valkron, tell me why you said that. You could have said a million other things.'

And I should have said them instead of what I said just now, thought Valkron miserably. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 'Because that's who I am.'

Iruna gave him a look. He looked back at her with an eyebrow raised.

Finally she said, 'I don't know if you're really saying it or not, but you don't seem to be telling the truth. Or rather, you seem to be telling me part of it. It's still not enough to convince me.'

'Convince? What is there to convince?'

'That you are really a worthy person to be with.'

Valkron stared. Then he said, 'You know, I think my brain has completely stopped trying to work out why we're having this conversation. Let's get back into the warmth.'

'Shows how insensitive you are,' said Iruna. 'I give up on you, too. You'll never understand.'

Valkron sighed. 'You're right. I'll never understand. I'm just someone who lives alone.'

Iruna turned around in shock, but the knight was already walking back to the house. She hesitated, and then ran towards him.

'Valkron!'

The knight turned. Iruna came to a stop.

'I should be the one saying sorry to you,' she said, hanging her head. 'I didn't know that. You never said.'

'I never talk about it,' he said. 'I don't want to.'

Iruna looked up into his face. For the first time since they had met she looked straight into his eyes. Although she had known they were deep green and were almost always solemn or hard or angry, but she had never seen them this way before. The clarity, the colour...there was so much detail she had missed before and she couldn't think how.

But the only thing she could really think of now was her brother. He looked like that too. And she found herself thinking what she had always thought whenever she had looked into his eyes.

He may be a warrior, a man of duty and responsibility and a stubborn fool at times, but his eyes will always tell the story of his life.

Iruna looked down. 'I'm sorry.'

'You don't have to be,' said Valkron.

'I didn't mean that. I'm sorry because I...I offended you.'

'You didn't.'

'I don't take myself into consideration these days.' Iruna brushed her hair away from her face, looking everywhere except at Valkron. 'I've never been. I thought everyone around me was doing something wrong and I didn't. I'm the fool around here.'

'Iruna.'

She looked back at him. Valkron looked quite indifferent.

'If it helps serve your memory I was doing that too, before this,' he said. 'So let's just be quits. We were once fools. It's up to us to change that. Let's go back in, Iruna, it's getting cold out here.'

The crusader stared at him. Then her face broke into a smile. 'Okay.'

Valkron looked down at her. The little calm voice in his head said, So?

Hesitantly, still unsure of whether he was doing it right or even if it was the right thing to do, Valkron leaned forward and kissed her.