"It is," he allowed. "Upon the dawn of the new era, you will be free."

She smiled, relieved, and sat without invitation. He had found her a good listener during their year together, her womanly touch at camp among the warriors reminding the army why they fought so hard. "I am pleased you have a new battle-witch."

"A battle-witch is sacred. I cannot take her as queen," he said curtly.

"As queen?" She appeared confused. "Certainly not. You will retire her rather than continue this needless war after Brown Sun Lake falls to you, and return to your home."

He said nothing, registering what he had said. He had admired the battle-witch's looks and spirit without giving any real thought to what happened to her once the war was over. That some small part of him entertained the unattainable desire of her becoming a warrior queen, like the great warrior queen who began the curse, struck him with some unease. From whence had those words come and more importantly - why had he voiced them?

Ever since discovering the battle-witch, his thoughts had begun straying from his focus on his next battle, at least with regards to her.

"I jest," he replied.

His betrothed continued to frown. "'Tis a jest in poor taste, m'lord. She is a sacred symbol to every warrior out there, one that need be respected, her skin forever protected from the touch of a man. My sister would gladly share your bed, m'lord, if you need the company of a woman."

"I am aware," he growled. Normally, he welcomed the idea of a woman who wanted into his bed after a battle, when his blood still pumped with victory and pride.

Yet he had been careful not to seek comfort in the arms of the Red Knight's sisters, not when he needed them for a different reason.

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"We ride early for Brown Sun Lake," he said. "You need your rest."

Understanding the dismissal, she rose without another word, curtseyed and left.

The Shadow Knight watched her go, resentful and frustrated. She represented a battle he had not yet won with a man who might have betrayed him. For now, his men regarded her as a symbol of hope and a peaceful future, and she was useful to him in that role.

Unlike the inconsistent battle-witch, who was a symbol of war, of a great curse, victory, - and the past. The two were opposites in nearly every way and alike in one: the beautiful women were keys to his submission of the entire realm, each in her own different way.

Mind on the battle-witch, he left the tent for the cool night. Her squire was bent over a scroll in the firelight, carefully recording the events of the day's battle. Wise behind his years, the squire had been taught at a young age how to read and write and remained one of the only three people in the Shadow Knight's army who held that skill.




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