They set out before dawn as that was when the border guard would be at its least alert. Lys was worried that Hänsel's braying would draw unwanted attention, but it was almost as if the mule understood their peril and kept quiet. Of course, the Lothrian border guard was the least of their concerns going forward. The danger would only grow greater and greater the closer they got to Gottestag. It would be a sore test of their nerves. Although she could not help harboring some doubts about Sir Burkhardt as he was now, Lys knew he had faced such dangers before and rose to the challenge, but had Lys' training put enough iron in her nerves so that she could do the same? She would not know until the time came.

It had only been two years since Bergeny fell to the Witch Queen, so the land was not yet changed much. Perhaps the only thing that drew much notice was the absence of any form of border guard on the Bergenian side of the border. The kingdom had fallen, but the Witch Queen did not yet have the land fully under her control.

Lys was too hasty parting as she did. She knew nothing of the Witch Queen and her forces outside her firsthand experience in Skadia and even less about the situation in the lands the Witch Queen had conquered. It had been years since Sir Burkhardt was last in action and if any reports had reached his ears since then, he had not paid any attention to them. The blind was leading the blind. They would have to figure things out as they went and they would probably receive more than a few painful lessons along the way.

They continued on their way for several hours until they stopped to break for the noontide meal. It was nothing much—some black bread, a slice of hard cheese and a link of hunter's sausage—, but it would be enough to keep them going to sunset.

While they were eating, Lys' ears twitched as her senses were alerted. She heard what was coming before she saw it and before she heard it, she felt it. There was power travelling through the air but she could tell it was not the full measure. It was only the remainder that escaped concealment, like what spills out when you try to put a lid on an overflowing pot. The presence of the power alone was enough to put Lys on her guard, but the fact that the source of that power saw fit to conceal it made her all the more wary.

There were two dark figures approaching, walking at a casual pace. Rushing in headlong for the kill did not seem to be their intent, but that did not mean they were not hostile.

Lys shook her head.

And so they warily continued their meal as the two figures drew closer. As they came close enough to distinguish them for what they were, or at least what they appeared to be, they were a most unusual pair. It was a priest and a nun. The priest was a young man, yet his hair was snowy white as some wizened old grandfather. In his hand he carried an ebon shepherd's crook clad in silver and capped with a small cross. The nun did not follow behind in meek submission as you would normally expect, but rather she walked by the priest's side, holding fast to his arm.

Once the priest was about twenty or thirty paces away, he lifted up his crook to salute Lys and Sir Burkhardt, saying, "Peace, Brother, and to you as well, peace, Sister."

He sounded friendly enough, which was all the more reason for Lys to regard him with suspicion.

Lys wondered if the priest could maintain his pleasant facade if she goaded at him a little.

Sir Burkhardt gave her a look, but the priest merely chuckled and said, "Then ours would be twice the scandal. Ysolde here is my sister according to the flesh just as she is my sister according to the faith."

Lys did not know if that made things better or worse. She did not have any brothers or sisters of her own, so she could not say what was normal and what was not, but the way the nun clung to the priest's arm, it certainly did not seem normal, but that was not the only thing that was not normal about them.

The priest bowed his head slightly and said, "A curse I strive to turn into a blessing."

It was not the touch of normal human magic nor that of the Elven blood of Lys or her father. The closest thing to Lys' own experience were certain deep parts of the forest where her master said the spirits worked darkly. Perhaps the priest was not simply speaking as a churchman when he called it a curse.

Just as Lys was silently searching out the true nature of the priest and the nun, she could feel them doing the same to her. The nun, though the weaker of the two, was digging the most intently. She kept a cool face, but she was like a starved dog pawing furiously at the earth to uncover an old stash of bones.

Looking right at Lys, the nun said to the priest, "We are not the only curious ones here, Brother."

Sir Burkhardt looked at Lys. There was no easy way to explain someone like her, but he made an effort all the same.

Actually, Lys' name was just Lys, but even an old drunkard like Sir Burkhardt knew better than to throw around the name of the Knight Champion of Gotland, so he made a new person for himself and her too while he was at it.

Unfazed, Sir Burkhardt replied, "I go where the gold is. Whether it's fer the Witch Queen or 'gainst 'er."

The priest wagged his crook and said, "That won't do, my good man. What kind of shepherd would I be if I left a lamb—or is it a ram, or perhaps a goat?—to stray into the den of wolves?"

Sir Burkhardt levelled a hard-eyed look at the priest.

The priest shrugged.

He pantomimed jerking the wayward lamb back with his crook. Sir Burkhardt knitted his brows in annoyance at the priest's persistence. It did not seem like it would be easy to be rid of him. Nevertheless, the old knight tried.

The priest placed his hand over his heart and said, "If God is with us, Brother, who can be against us?"

Sir Burkhardt looked around him, on this desolate road, and asked in turn, "Does it look like God's with us?"

Sir Burkhardt sighed.

Lys leaned in close and whispered, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Sir Burkhardt rolled his eyes.

Lys cocked her head curiously. Noticing this, Sir Burkhardt said, "I'll tell you later."

Sir Burkhardt sighed.