Giordi was permitted to sleep in the tent with the others that night, nomad guards keeping watching outside all night long. In the morning he was summoned to the meeting hall. He begged for Caste to come with him as interpreter.

  “I know I’ll learn the language eventually but I’d like to avoid insulting my father in law to be.” Giordi said lightly.

  “I don’t know how you can joke when the situation is so serious.” Caste grumbled, following him across the frost covered ground to the meeting hall.

  “If I didn’t laugh, I’d weep…and feeling sorry for myself got me into this situation in the first place.” Giordi remarked. “It’s time I started making better decisions.”

  “Marrying a complete stranger for someone else’s crime is a better decision?” Caste demanded.

  “If I marry Revna, then at least, in some way, I’ll be doing something good. Her child will have a father,” Giordi shook his head, “and I vow to raise it better than the man who begat it.”

  Caste clucked his tongue. “I still think this reeks of yet another bad decision.”

  “Oddly enough, your disapproval is somewhat reassuring.” Giordi chuckled then sobered up, seeing the guards glare at him. “Shall we?”

  Judd sharpened his sword as Verne paced endlessly in front of the tent. He tried not to be irritated by it but eventually he snapped, “would you stop?”

  “Stop what?” Verne demanded.

  “Pacing.”

  Verne huffed and sat down near Judd. He lasted about two minutes before he stood up. “I’m going to fire some arrows.”

  “Into what?”

  “Whatever annoys me the most.” Verne said darkly, storming off.

  Judd rolled his eyes and went back to sharpening his sword.

  “You might want to spend more time getting your best clothes ready.” Judd looked up at Caste whose red hair was vibrant against the cool blue sky. “You’ve got a wedding to attend.”

  “Yes, I am aware.” Caste’s shadow didn’t shift from him. Judd frowned and met Caste’s gaze. “What don’t I know?”

  “The wedding is today.”

  Judd jolted and stood up, his sword falling to the ground. “Today?” Caste nodded. “As in today, today?” He nodded again. “But…that’s…”

  “If you say insane, I will point out that from the very first step on this impossible and ridiculous journey, insane has been the theme.” Caste warned sharply.

  Judd could hardly say anything to refute that. There were times he agreed with the critical cleric that insane was the perfect way to describe the situations they found themselves in.

  “Does it seem hasty? I mean, I don’t know much about nomads and their way of life…but it seems…hasty.”

  “Given how far along Revna is towards having her baby, haste is the only option.”

  Judd studied Caste’s expression, curious. “What’s your opinion on the matter?”

  Caste shrugged. “Why would you care?”

  “I asked, didn’t I?”

  Caste folded his arms. “You can’t live his lifestyle and not have it come back to haunt you. Jilted females and angry fathers make for powerful ghosts. Quite frankly, he’s getting out of it easily enough.”

  “Easily enough?” Judd exclaimed. “He’s marrying a girl he doesn’t even know and will spend the rest of his life as a nomad amongst a people whose language he can’t even understand! How is that easy enough?”

  “Given the alternative…”

  “Being whipped would be highly unpleasant but…” Judd saw Caste shake his head. “It’s not a whipping?”

  “No, it’s not just a whipping.” Caste leaned down. “I had a word with Chief Bear before coming here. Do you recall that post outside the palisade?”

  Judd frowned. “I remember thinking it was odd, a single post sitting out in the middle of the plains.”

  It had been impossible not to see the lone post, buried deep into a flat portion of the prairie with a metal ring fixed to the top. Judd figured it was a place to tether horses and hadn’t thought any more about it.

  “That’s where the condemned are sent to spend a single night.” Caste explained. “They are whipped until they reek of blood then they’re taken to the post and shackled to it.”

  Judd stared at him. “But there are monsters out there…”

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “And if the nomad survives the night he or she is welcomed back into the clan with no recriminations for their transgression.” Caste paused. “It bears a striking resemblance to Lord LeMewn’s punishment policy.”

  “I rather doubt Chief Elk has a werewolf in his pocket or any other monster for that matter.”

  “He wouldn’t need to, not this close to the wall.” Caste nodded. “So, faced with becoming a monster’s next meal or marrying any girl, regardless whether or not you know her…”

  “I see your point.” Judd sighed and stood up. “I’d better get ready then.” He paused at the entrance to the tent. “I’ll be sad not to have Giordi with us. I suppose you’re inwardly rejoicing.”

  “I may not approve of the minstrel and we certainly have differences of opinions, lifestyle and manners in which to engage the opposite sex,” Caste said sternly, “but I would never have wished that punishment on him…and I feel that this option is, as he said, his way of paying his dues.”

  Judd turned to Caste. “In all of this…has anyone asked the young woman, Revna, if this is what she wants?”

  Caste shrugged. “I’ve not seen her since Giordi was accused.”

  “You’ve got to wonder,” Caste raised an eyebrow as Judd frowned, “as similar as Haern and Giordi must have looked, surely Revna would know the difference. Others could be persuaded to have forgotten but Revna? And if that’s the case, why is she allowing her father to force Giordi to marry her?”

  Caste shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  Giordi had been handed clothing and left to dress. He was alone in a tent yet he knew that there were guards outside and on all four sides. Chief Elk was taking no chances. Giordi suspected that the guards were not only there to keep him in but to keep others out who might exact vengeance. Revna’s brother’s eyes were as cold as his father’s and his name, Sten, sounded like stone and that was appropriate as well. Giordi dressed as well as he could in the unfamiliar clothing. Without a looking glass, he could only guess when he had everything on correctly.

  “Caste,” he muttered, “where are you?”

  He had sent the cleric to his tent to retrieve some of his belongings but now he wished Caste was there to tell him how ridiculous he looked.

  “From silks and flocked velvet, crystal goblets and Astaril’s finest gourmet offerings…to nomadic furs, drinking horns and half raw meat…” Giordi shook his head. “Still…if I just knew I was wearing this correctly…Caste, is that you?”

  The tent opened the most minimum crack and a body slid through, closing it hastily behind them. Giordi stared at his visitor, unfamiliar to him until they pushed back their hood and looked at him with wide, pale grey eyes.

  “Revna?”

  She clutched at her cloak as she timidly approached, glancing at him fearfully as though afraid to meet his gaze. Giordi remained completely still, hands by his side, a thousand thoughts running through his mind. How should he act in the presence of someone who thought he’d raped her? Should he act ashamed or arrogant? Was his natural reaction of guilt appropriate or should he convey confidence and calm even as his hands desperately wanted to wring his tunic into a creased, crushed display.

  Revna’s gaze finally held fast, her fear diminishing slightly. She closed her eyes and looked away.

  “You are not him.”

  Giordi blinked, as stunned by her words as he was by the enormity of her confession.

  “You…know?” She nodded. Giordi nearly doubled over in relief. “You know…it wasn’t me! Oh!” He pushed his hands through his golden curls and laughed. “You know!” He realised he was joyfully exclaiming even as Revna appeared to be crumpling into despair. “Sorry…I’m sorry…” He gestured to the covered stumps that acted as chairs and Revna sat down, taking the weight of her swollen belly from her feet. “If…if you know, you can tell your father…Revna, we can go to him together and tell him…” Giordi stopped as tears streamed down her face. “Why are you crying?”

  She continued to sob, her thin shoulders bent beneath the weight of her grief.

  “Patras…my father…I told him…Giordi Gavoli…”

  “Yes, I know,” Giordi assured her, “you told him that Giordi Gavoli forced you…” Revna put her hands over her face and wept. Giordi stared at her bowed head, revelation dawning. “But he didn’t…did he?” She couldn’t speak. She could only shake her head. “Why did you tell him…”

  “Patras…so strict…so cold,” Revna licked her lips and looked up, her eyes rimmed with red, the pale grey of her irises shimmering, “if he know…that I…”

  “That you gave yourself willingly…you would be punished.” Giordi breathed.

  “He would beat me for defying him.” Revna closed her eyes. “I did not listen. I thought he was cruel…and Giordi said he take me away…”

  “But after he got what he wanted…he ran off and left you.” Revna nodded. “You blamed Giordi entirely, to save yourself from your father’s wrath…thinking you would never hear my name again.”

  “Why you here?” Revna begged. “Why you come? Patras…”

  “He doesn’t know I’m not the one.” Giordi stood up and began to pace. “But…but if we go to him together and tell him…if we explain…”

  Revna threw herself at his feet. “Please…he will whip me for my lies!”

  Giordi gazed at her, wrestling with the slim crack of freedom he had been offered with the announcement that he was not the man who had forced Chief Elk’s daughter. He could escape this nomadic prison of a life with a woman he only knew the name of, becoming a father within a matter of weeks…

  “I…I don’t want this life…” He admitted then cringed at how selfish his words sounded when, at his feet, was a young woman who would wear the consequences of, not just Haern’s actions but his own for the rest of her life. Revna said nothing, weeping onto his fur lined boots, her tears marking the soft leather as she knelt, one arm cradling her belly and unborn child, the other reaching out to hover above Giordi’s boot, unwilling to touch it as if she didn’t dare.

  Giordi closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He wasn’t noble or brave or even very clever if he was brutally honest with himself. His good looks and marginal musical ability had gotten him out of trouble as easily as it had gotten him into it and he had traded on that ability for a long time.

  Perhaps it was time he grew up?

  He took Revna’s quivering hand and helped her to rise, her face tear stained and frightened. Giordi brushed her cheeks clear of her tears, tucking strands of her ashen hair back from her face.

  “Revna…will you marry me?”

  She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze and Giordi nearly sobbed at the unguarded glimmer of hope that sparked in her eyes.

  “You…owe nothing…”

  “I wasn’t the one who did this to you,” Giordi’s hand stroked the air above Revna’s belly, “but I am responsible.” She stared at him, still uncertain and unwilling to cling onto the possibility that she might be saved. “I would like to look after you and this precious babe.”

  “You…stay here?”

  Giordi nodded. “I stay here.”

  Revna clutched at his hands, kissing the tops of them. Giordi’s heart melted with compassion as she dotted his fingers with her tears of gratitude which, only moments before, were tears of fear.

  “Giordi, I couldn’t find your…uh…” Caste held fast at the entrance to the tent. “Am I interrupting?”

  Revna shook her head and darted away, fleeing the tent without a backwards glance. Caste looked at Giordi.

  “Care to explain?”

  “She knows I’m not the one.”

  “She knows?” Giordi nodded. “But…that means…”

  “I’m staying, Caste,” the cleric stared at Giordi in surprise, “I’m staying.”

  “But…why?”

  “It’s the right thing to do.”