When Vero woke, she was lying in a bed of filthy straw. As her mind slowly moved into motion, the first thing she became aware of was the overpowering odor of dung. She held a fistful of cloth from her dress across her face as a mask to offer some relief from the smell.

The room she was in was pitch black at first. The effects of her spell had worn off, but her eyes began to adjust naturally to the lack of light. She was in a prison cell. It felt damp, but not as cold as the Earl’s room had been. She presumed she was located somewhere beneath the tower. The smell came from the walls, which were covered in human waste. There were no windows, and as far as she could tell the only way out was a single solid wooden door.

She did not fancy the prospect of checking for secret passages behind the walls, so she focused her attention on the obvious exit. The only light in the room creeped in from beneath the door. It emanated from torches or candles somewhere in the hall beyond. A tray of food had been slid underneath the door from the hall.

At first, eating was the last thing on Vero’s mind. After a few minutes of searching her surroundings, she could not think of anything else she should do. There was some moldy stale bread and a tin cup with water. She said a prayer to Vedio, scraped off as much of the mold as she could manage, and pressed it against the wounds on her wrist and head. She drank the water and ate about half the bread, leaving the rest for later, since she had no idea when she might be fed again.

Stupid fool of a girl! You couldn’t even remember the simplest rule of all.

Vero had left her mind unguarded and allowed the spirit to put a deathly terror into her. She had made it all that way, only to flee like a craven and be captured. Now she would be trapped in this horrible dungeon until she was hung, or until the Marquis soldiers pulled her out like a weak little kitten. She could not even decide which of the two possibilities she dreaded most.

Pathetic!

She stayed there for what felt like hours, but it was difficult to be sure. Eventually she did relent and checked the walls for any weaknesses, but found none. She could still feel the unnatural cold from time to time, but only at a distance. Vero presumed the dungeon she was held in was somewhere near the base or beneath the tower. No footsteps ever went up or down the hall, but listening at the door she could hear the sounds of someone in the room off to the left of her cell.

With no other obvious options, she decided to try speaking to her captors. “Hello? Is anyone out there?”

Silence prevailed for a moment.

Then she heard the voice of the templar. “Veronique? You were injured when we subdued you. How does your head feel?”

“Throbbing. I didn’t expect you to be my jailor.”

“The men were afraid when they saw the signs in blood written on you. These bumpkins are terribly superstitious and feared that you were a witch. They intended to burn you before I stopped them. Now I don’t trust any of them to keep watch on you.”

“Why are you so concerned about my welfare?”

“I was the one who allowed you into the city armed. Any crimes you may have caused are ultimately my responsibility. Standing vigil over you is part of my penance.”

“You have my word I won’t mention the matter to anyone.”

“I have already informed my mother-confessor of my failure and she has relieved me of my previous rank. I have nothing to hide and I would never ask you to lie for me.” Vero heard the templar sit beside the door. “Veronique, this is important. Did you harm anyone else in the city before coming to the tower? I promise you there will be no further repercussions against you, but if there are injured people somewhere in the city-”

“Don’t be ridiculous. The only person I’ve harmed since I arrived in this city is you.”

“Are you telling me the truth? You swear it before the gods?”

“I swear.”

“Ah, you have lifted a weight from my heart. The Earl may try and have you executed, but I promise you that the church won’t allow him.”

“Why should your church care about me?”

“It offends the gods to execute one afflicted by madness.”

Vero steadied her temper. “I am not mad, Fra. I'm a slayer, hired by the Marquis de Fer. Your lord has been possessed by a wraith, anchored to the dead body of a woman kept hidden at the top of this tower. The ghost has caused the Earl to abandon his feudal oath, though I’m not certain yet for what reason. Stopping it is our only chance to prevent this battle before it begins!”

“You must know how this sounds.”

“How did I get past the wall if I’m only a madwoman?”

“One of the guards has sworn he allowed you inside to sell yourself to the men in the barracks.”

“It’s a lie! Look for my bag beneath some wreckage outside the wall. There are reagents inside. That barrel shaped fool at the gate didn’t recognize them, but I’m sure a man of learning like yourself could recognize the signs of spellcraft. The building itself collapsed because of the working I cast to alter Terra's natural pull. You must let me go so I can confront the thing responsible for all this!”

“Calm down, Veronique.”

Vero could tell she was making no progress with the stubborn knight and felt miserable. “You think I’m lying. Whoever this spirit is, it has all of you under her power.”

The templar sounded sad. “No, I do not question your honesty. I think the pressures of this conflict has had a terrible effect on you. It has been well documented that constant tension and great changes in circumstance can unhinge a person’s mind. Women – by their sensitive nature – are even more susceptible to these ailments. Watching your father, brother… perhaps your husband… be called away to fight and die for foolish political reasons completely beyond your understanding- I know what a terrible and terrifying burden it must be. With no direction to turn for comfort, your mind turned on itself, and invented this fantasy. But you must have faith, the gods will see us through. When this battle is over – if the gods determine that I survive – I swear that I shall personally escort you to an asylum where the priestesses can make you well.”

The templar believed he understood the inner working of her mind so well. Vero remembered something Mama had told her a long time ago, that a person afflicted by worries often cannot help but project their own thoughts and fears onto others. If the knight felt desperate and helpless because of the situation they were in, then perhaps she could use that against him.

“I’m frightened, Fra.” She tried to sound confused and vulnerable, which was not difficult under the circumstances.

“I’m sorry, Veronique. It was my intention to relieve your fears, not add to them.” The templar placed his hand beneath the door.

Vero considered this a positive sign and placed her own hand over his. “May I ask your given name, Fra?”

“Heward.”

“Fra Heward, please. Find some excuse, investigate the top of the tower. If you even just approach the top, you will feel the unnatural cold, I swear it. You worship the Goddess of Learning, is it right for a tower to grow colder as one ascends? If I am mad then you will find nothing. If you are right, then I swear that I will go with you to this asylum and do whatever else you ask, and I’m certain your confessor won’t be any angrier than she already is. But, if I'm right, then we are the only ones who can prevent all this unnecessary bloodshed. If there is even the smallest chance that I am correct, is it not rational for us to do everything in our power to stop this war now?”

The hand withdrew. “I’m sorry Veronique.”

Vero could hear him stand and begin to leave. “Open your eyes! If you will only look the signs are obvious! You’re all under her spell! When the Earl began to shout, you were already running up the stairs! What drew you there!? Everyone in this tower, in this city- could be killed! If you do nothing now, then every one of those deaths is on your head! Are you listening to me!?”

There was no further reply. She continued calling out for several more minutes, but Fra Heward no longer spoke back to her. Eventually, she lay back down on the small patch of straw and did her best to conserve her energy for whatever would come next.