I could barely sleep and rose early the next morning. Leaving Royce imprisoned after seeing him, touching him, especially after being apart so long, was maddening. I had to trust he knew what he was doing.

Royce's trial was set for an hour after dawn and the crowd would soon be gathering to watch him hang. I dressed carefully, planning for a quick escape. In the courtyard the bright sun was just rising over the wall of the keep. I positioned myself strategically between the gallows and the main gate, knowing this would be the best spot to get to Royce. I saw the two sisters, Lucy and Jo, arrive from across the yard. Jo looked directly at me and I thought I saw her wink, although she kept her face neutral. They were up to something, but what?

Presently, the front doors of the keep opened and a pair of guards came out. Sheriff Ed thrust Royce forward, his hands bound securely, followed by Lord Foxcomb and the Seret knight, Sir Norvale.

Looking pleased, Foxcomb announced, "This man has been found guilty of theft, murder, destruction of property, conspiracy, and heresy. I sentence him to execution and he shall be hanged by the neck until dead." Lord Foxcomb turned to the sheriff and nodded for him to proceed.

I clenched my fists. I had to help Royce, but there were so many men-at-arms, plus the Seret. If only he'd let me help him escape last night! The sheriff brought Royce to the steps of the gallows. I couldn't wait, I took one step forward.

Then Lucy rushed up, slammed into Royce, and slapped him hard across the face. She pulled on his shirt, looking him straight in the eyes and glared at him in anger. "I wish they could hang you a thousand times. Marabor will see you to rot for the way you've ruined me and my sisters!"

One of the guards pulled the woman away, but she struggled and continued to curse Royce. Then, much slower than he usually moved, he kicked Lucy to the ground. She screamed; it was loud and dramatic, drawing all eyes to her.

I watched Royce as he carefully, deliberately took a step towards Lucy. The sheriff reached out to grab him, when a dagger flew through the air towards Royce. He reach up, as if to block the blade with his hand, but it landed in his chest, and blood splattered everywhere. Royce swayed on his feet, blood soaked into his shirt, then he dropped to the ground.

I couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

Several people pointed at Jo, "That guy, over there, he did it. He threw the dagger."

Jo shouted, "That's right, I killed him. I had to stop him from hurting my sister. He more than deserved it."

Suddenly, without thinking, I raced to Royce's side and knelt next to him. Blood stained his shirt and the dagger stuck out of his chest, his hand still clasping the hilt. Panic threatened to overwhelm me, when Royce popped one eye open, saw it was me, the shut it again. I realized Royce was still breathing. His breathing was shallow and faint, but he was definitely alive.

The it hit me. I knew what I was supposed to do.

I cried out, "He's dead!" Keeping my voice loud enough to be heard by the crowd, I added fervently, "Marabor must have guided her hand to have landed that dagger straight in his heart."

The people erupted into cheers and exclamations of wonder.

Then I slung Royce's limp body over my shoulder and stood. I turned to Lord Foxcomb, "Where do you want the body my Lord? Was he to be buried or burned?"

Baffled by this turn of events, Foxcomb simply stared. The Seret knight answered me absently, "Burned. There shall be no burial for this heretic." He kept his eyes fixed on Jo, who was being patted on the back and congratulated,

Deacon Hibbard stammered, "We prepared a pyre in the back. I'll show you."

"Yes, Sir," I answered and followed the priest around the back of the keep. I laid Royce down on the ground next to the pile of wood. Some townsfolk wandered over, but I called out, "Nothing to see here. Back to your business, now!"

Deacon Hibbard was still watching. I knew had to get rid of him and I didn't want to have to hurt him. I thought back to what Royce had said, 'distract and motivate.'

I took my time looking at the arrangement of pitch soaked wood and the nearby wooden wall of the keep. I scowled, crossed my arms over my chest and let out a loud 'harrumph' sound.

The priest caught my displeasure and asked, "What's wrong?"

I answered, all concern "This isn't a safe way to set up a big fire. I don't like how it is placed and we should have something to put it out, in case the wind picks up and sparks fly about." The weather was calm and there was absolutely no wind.

The deacon volunteered, "Shall I fetch some water?"

I answered, "Sand would be better. Water will only spread a pitch fueled fire." I kept my face innocent, "If you go and find a bucket of sand, I'll start the fire."

Thankfully, the priest agreed. With the deacon out of the way, it was easy to fake the cremation. I struck a spark to the pyre and whispered to Royce, "So how'd you do it?"

He lay still on the ground where I'd placed him, keeping his face neutral and eyes shut but answered, "Lucy placed a bladder of pig's blood under my shirt when she grabbed me. Then Jo threw the hilt of a dagger at me, which I caught, and used to burst the bag of blood. We had to practice a lot to get the angle just right."

The fire was roaring now and the coast was still clear, I said, "Time to come back to life I think."

Royce popped up, looked around, and effortlessly climbed onto the roof. He scaled the wall so efficiently and gracefully, I couldn't help but admire him. By Mar, the small man was talented. Once on the roof, he stripped naked and I admired him a bit more. He threw down his clothes, which I caught and added to the pyre. I turned in time to watch his bare backside disappear over the rooftop. By the time the priest came back, the fire was so bright and high, you couldn't even make if there was a body anymore or not.

The next day I resigned from Lord Foxcomb's service. The sheriff tried to convince me to stay, but I refused saying I didn't like that my pay might be stripped away at the Lord's whim. I wanted to say goodbye to Lucy and Jo, but thought it better not to arouse suspicions. I left town and started down the road to Glamrendor. I knew Royce would find me.

As the sun began to set, I made camp in a clearing just off the road. Sure enough, just as I'd finished cooking some stew, Royce stepped out of the trees in his familiar black cloak and hood.

My heart skipped a beat and I couldn't help but smile, wide and true, "It looks like you got your clothes back. And I was looking forward to watching you run around naked a bit longer." I teased.

Royce stepped closer and pulled back his hood, "I thought you might like that ... display." The merest hint of smile flitted across his face.

Suddenly, I remembered him falling to the ground, blood soaking his chest and my voice became tight, "If you ever pretend to be dead again, without warning me first, I'll kill you." I had intended it to be a joke, but it came out strained and my voice broke.

Royce crossed the distance to stand in front of me. He reached out to put a hand at the back of my neck and pulled gently. He put the other hand around my waist and drew me into his arms, close and tight. I buried my face in his shoulder and breathed.