When the darkness faded, to be replaced by blurry light and aches that extended from head to toe, I found it was not Omar that not standing over me, it was a figure in both red and black. The figures hand reached down to me. I gripped it with my left hand. The pain in my right was so sharp it forced a out gasp.

“Venerable one,” the Keith stated as he pulled me to my feet.” Speak. You can still speak?”

The hall swirled about me for a moment as I sought my bearings, and my vision cleared. The Keith was bloodied, though it did not appear that the blood was his own.

“I am well,” I forced out.

Omar was laid out on the floor, moaning, but otherwise unmoving. His blackwood staff lay across the hall. I glanced down at my own staff, and retrieved it. I seemed no further harmed. In fact, my aches appeared to be fading. Her doing? As with commanding my body to defeat Omar. Our rebonding had changed more than I could have expected. Knowing her freedom was so close, she now fought hard for it, more than ever before. She again, felt comfortable in my grip, as she had in the Keith’s hall. Apparently she had no desire to fall into my former apprentice’s hands, and I had been saved in the bargain. I had to shake my head.

After a few more breaths, I turned back to the Margrave.

“What of you?” I asked.

“The wizard’s guards fought hard, like they were men possessed, but we defeated them.” he told me. The stream of blood running down the left side of his face was already drying, the stain of his scale hauberk turning brown. Still, his greatsword dripped blood onto the dark marble floor of the hall. I could not hear the sounds of battle from outside. I began to wonder at how long my battle with Omar had taken.

“But not without cost,” he added gravely. “Four were struck down, most have been wounded in some manner, young Reidweither’s most sorely. He will need woundcasting and soon, if he is to live.”

I frowned. That would not be possible while the both their stones and the ones Omar had stolen remained. I looked to Omar. He would have to be dealt with quickly.

“Help me,” I ordered. It took the both of us to pull the heavy Omar to his feet and carry him out of the hall toward the stairs, and as I planned, towards the tower’s stables. The Keith only questioned me when we reached the stable doors.

“Why are we doing this,” he wanted to know. “He should be slain, or held for Council judgment. The crimes he has committed–”

“This is the purview of his fellows, his former master,” I told him. “Those are the tenets that we all are all held to. Your purpose was to help me recover the stones. No more. That was our agreement. What becomes of Omar is my concern, and my concern only. You will not speak of this with anyone. Do you understand?”

“No,” he told me angrily, not lowering his blood stained blade. “I do not… wizard.”