Germaine’s POV ***

The sleep had vanished from Germaine’s eyes, thanks to the cold buffeting of the rain. He had watched Sir Ulrich sneak out of his room in the tavern, and steal his way out alone. Anybody who had sense knew there was something foul in the air, and Germaine had not only sense but a good nose for secrets and troubles as well.

“Looks like Sir Ulrich is dilly dallying with another woman,” he said, standing under the awning of a house to keep from the rain. His horse was just at the end of the street, it was a beast and would fare well in the rain.

Then he saw a figure climb out of the window with the dexterity of a seasoned thief. He immediately grew suspicious of the whole affair; that apartment was where Sir Ulrich had gone into, so why would he crawl out through the window?

The kid from earlier said Sir Ulrich was looking for a blind man, she also mentioned a secret she would not tell. And she probably wouldn’t have spilled had Germaine not lifted her up by the scruff of the neck.

Sir Ulrich was born in Salpool. But that meant nothing; maybe his parents were from Gelderland and just passed their citizenship on to him.

Only one way to find out.

Germaine bowed his head and hurried into the rain. He made his way across the road and entered the same building he had seen Sir Ulrich climb into. According to the kid, John Thatcher lived in the upper building, which left Germaine wondering why a blind man would live in a place where he had to climb up and down a flight of stairs every day.

He found the door was slightly open, and a man with cup in hand was staring into the distance. Germaine thought from the milky white of those eyes that it had to be John Thatcher, the man Sir Ulrich had come looking for.

He pushed in through the door and stepped inside. The man startled at the sound; what blind men lacked in sight, they made up for in other areas of their body, especially their ears.

“William? Is that you?” the blind man said.

Germaine knew the man would raise an alarm if he did not respond, so he grabbed a cup of wine nearby and drank from it. However, instead of swallowing, he held the liquid in his mouth and gurgled loudly.

“Give me your hands, William,” John said, putting his hands forward.

Germaine grew apprehensive at this, but then considered the fact that all it would take to free himself from the blind man was a powerful blow.

He bent down and put his hands in those of John’s.

“Hmm,” said John.

“Your hands are soft…” John remarked. “So soft that they remind me of your mother’s. Tell me, William my son, are you certain you changed your stars with Sir Hector or is there something I should know?”

Germaine's eyes widened hearing Sir Hector's name and what that girl said outside. Suddenly, he connected all the dots.

Germaine had investigated Sir Ulrich thoroughly by this point. Normally that name would not have rung any warning bells; were it not for a simple fact that connected Sir Ulrich to Sir Hector. What connected the two knights was none other than "Roland."

Sir Hector used to call the three boys under his employ “his squires,” in name only, as many knight's do to keep them motivated to continue serving. However, there was one major difference between Roland and the other two. Sir Hector had officially registered Roland a his squire which is considered an official rank before knighthood. A rank required and must be held for at least five years in order to be knighted by another knight. This regulates the amount of knight's another knight can create. Upper nobles of course don't have to oblige by this international law.

In his research, Germaine had found that Sir Ulrich's official herald Geoffrey Chaucer had requested a transfer on behalf of his liege Sir Ulrich for Roland. Normally, such a thing was deemed in ill taste and would only occur if a knight had a falling out with their squire. It was such a rare occurrence since normally the knight would simply revoke the squire's title. Which knight's normally didn't do since it prevented their former squire from being taken in by another knight without their permission.

There was only two ways a squire's transfer could be approved and that was if both knights agreed and presented themselves before a local lord to agree to the transfer or if the liege knight of the squire had died and another knight decided to replace him.

Germaine had found this strange at the time since it was considered bad luck to take on the squire of a deceased knight. Even so, he did not think much of it back then but that along with every other evidence he gathered against Sir Ulrich suddenly connected in his head.

There was a scratching sound at the window and Germaine quickly pulled his hands.

“What is it? William? Wait, you are not William. Who are you?”

Germaine grew pale and trembled viciously. He spurred and burst out of the door, down the flight of stairs and into the rain.

He had learned a secret of the gods today; Sir Ulrich is no knight! He's a fraud!