Despite the gentle warmth in the air, the sun rays felt cold and dim. A thin layer of clouds covered the sky, dispersing the sunlight into a muddled layer of milky light. Lodwin looked up at the sky, shading his eyes with his hand. It ought to be around late afternoon but Aswald didn’t look like he was about to call a stop anytime soon. With a sigh, Lodwin lowered his gaze again and tightened the grip around the rains of his horse.

  They had left Harren in the morning, two days after the fisher-boy's death. Since then, Rosomil hadn’t talked more than was necessary. He also seemed to have grown more distant than he already was. Lodwin and the others had tried already a few times to coax at least some semblance of a smile out of him, but no one had any luck.

  Worried, Lodwin glanced over his shoulder to where Rosomil rode at the end of their small caravan. He kept a stable distance to them but the yards between them seemed to grow in spite. While his friend had always been stern and not easily approachable, this didn’t seem healthy. Especially, the conversation they have had before Alistair killed Hamish, swam around Lodwin’s mind. With it also came the idea that Rosomil might do something uncharacteristically reckless in the near future. Beyond those observations, it also hurt Lodwin seeing his friend with his head lowered and the tense, almost stone-like expression on his face.

  With a sigh, Lodwin looked ahead again and caught Oswin’s worried gaze. Within a second, he had made up his mind and signed his companion that he would fall back to Rosomil to talk to him. Oswin nodded and rode to the others to inform them.

  With ease, Lodwin slowed his horse down and guided it gently next to Rosomil’s. His friend looked up for a moment before turning away.

  “There’s no sense in mulling it over and over, you know”, Lodwin said comradely.

  “Leave me be, Lod”, he replied avoidant and slowed his horse down.

  After a second of consideration, Lodwin grabbed his rains and pulled his mount to his own.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “Cease this at once”, Rosomil said without the usual snap.

  “No”, he replied deadpan. “I know you well enough, that I’m more than certain you’re making yourself out to be responsible for the outcome of this case, which you aren’t.”

  “Who’s responsible if not me?”

  “Rosomil, the case is closed and that’s all that matters.”

  “Does it really matter when one of the murderer's still around?”, asked Rosomil with muted anger. “Does it really matter when an innocent man thought himself doomed and became what he wasn’t meant to be?”

  “Perhaps this was what the Lord had intended all along. Remember, He works in mysterious ways to which we aren’t privy to.”

  “And this does sit well with you?”

  At this Lodwin led go of the reins and looked at the mane of his horse, thinking. Despite feeling a certain amount of impatience emitting from Rosomil, he didn’t come to a hasty conclusion.

  “Honestly…”, he began and glared at Aswald, who was at the front of their caravan and a good deal ahead already. “If it weren’t for Captain Aswald, we would’ve apprehended the priests and saved both Aila and Alistair.”

  “So, we really do think alike”, commented Rosomil with a melancholic smile.

  “You ever doubted that, my friend?”, he replied, pleased. “Even after our conversation that night?”

  “No. Not at all”, he said and took a deep breath. “But before we reform the Order, we need to convince the others.”

  “Which shouldn’t be too difficult, but I think we should wait until after Aswald submitted our evaluation, and you’ve become our official captain.”

  “If I become your captain.”

  “Stop it with the long face, Rosomil, or you’ll start to look droopy. Now that’s much better.”

  “I wish I could have even a minuscule amount of your hope. Still, it won’t change the fact that I still blundered the case.”

  “And here we go again…”

  At this Rosomil glared at him, which made Lodwin laugh.

  “Just wait and see”, he insisted, and tied his hair together. “You can’t be sure a thing comes to pass or not until its time has come.”

  “You can be awfully wise, almost annoyingly so”, replied Rosomil with a smile. “And, I guess, you’re right. So… Let’s close in on the others. I’d rather not lose sight of them once we enter the forest ahead.”

  “How about a race, then?”

  “A race?”

  Instead of repeating himself, he urged his horse on and caused Rosomil to shout after him. A few seconds later, they rode ahead to head to the others. They even overtook them, much to the dismay of Aswald, but Lodwin didn’t care about the old man. All he wanted for now was to at least make Rosomil not give into the gloom, which always seemed to haunt him.

  here