“The man seems unfriendly, but powerful. I'd ignore his remark towards you, I'm sure he didn't mean to offend you, merely using you as an example. He's not yet learned that we are all equal here, in the face of death. I'm sure God will teach him that, sooner or later.” Sarah was quiet as the young priest continued to ramble on for a bit. Her response was hardly required as Gawain was obviously quite troubled yet seemed comforted by the sound of his own voice. 

And frankly, I suddenly don't feel sure the Consano can do what they say they can do. These men and woman aren't soldiers. They are bandits, thugs, assassins, daggers and cloaks, rapists, murderers...”

Now this was something that Sarah could agree with. After all, had not the obscene man drenched in finery freely confessed to at least two of these savageries? More than this, the young woman shared in Gawain’s uncertainty that the Consano had even the slightest hope of stopping the plague. For one thing, Sarah had hoped that she might find a number of explorers and like minded scientists who could compare and outdo her own knowledge of this crisis. Instead she was met with a small brigade of sell swords and tired old veterans. Exactly what did King Barius expect that such a band of misfits could accomplish?

“God planned this for me, this I know. He holds the shackles of a man's chain, and leads them to a good life. So it was intended for me to be here, to try and save Vahili. But I am not a soldier, I am not the best priest, and I am certainly not as..” Gawain stopped briefly in his sentence to come up with a word that wasn't as strong as 'evil'. “I'm not battle hardened like these people, I suppose. Why does God send me here?”  

Though anxious as he was, the healer sensed Gawain’s relief as he quietly chattered about his fears. Sarah continued to sense that this entire conversation was rhetorical. She noticed the deep furrows of his brow as he spoke, and how they hid the three dark dots which appeared tattooed into his flesh. Sarah wondered what these symbols meant, but did not ask. Still, she felt that manners dictated some form of sympathetic response for all his revelations.

When at last he turned to rest against a wall, Sarah began to speak,”We all...”

“You aren’t exactly wrong with that statement there...fufufu” Came a far more intrepid and sultry voice from the other side of Gawain.

Sarah looked past her new acquaintance to see the beautiful dark woman who had discovered the eavesdropper earlier. She stroked Gawain’s face seductively with her long slender fingers and in her eye was a look of intrigue. Her lips pratically caressed his ear as breathed her words.
.” I was an assassin, I have no reason to hide it… and you shall soon be brought into shape to fight… I will personally see to that.”

To his credit, the young priest seemed startled and while not offended, not entirely impressed with the exotic woman’s flirtation. Sarah had thrown a hand up to steady him when Gawain nearly lost his balance. She raised an eyebrow at the assassin who was busy flaunting her murderous profession. Shame did not seem to be a word familiar to this crowd. The only exception perhaps being with Gawain.   

Sarah stood silently as the two conversed about their faith, or lack thereof. Karen offered to buy dinner for the lot of them, but Sarah could see that the invitation was pointed toward Gawain. That suited Sarah just fine. When Gawain declined however, the exotic woman looked to the healer. Perhaps this was out of courtesy, Sarah was sure the assassin did not truly want her company. Still, it would be rude to ignore the offer entirely.

In a convincing Vahili accent, Sarah began her first real words since she had arrived, “May the God of Light keep you, Milady. I’m afraid find myself too exhausted for fellowship.” Sarah’s voice was cool and business like, “However, I pray you eat your fill and enjoy the similar appetites of these many fine men.” Sarah gestured to the crowd of soldiers strewn about the room.     

The young healer guessed that food and drink would not satisfy this particular woman’s hunger. All the same, she dropped a few coins into Karen’s sun beaten palms, “Allow me to honor you instead.”

The distraction of Lady Buxton’s booming voice was perfectly timed as far as Sarah was concerned. Before the dark woman could respond, the healer turned her attention toward her new commander. That was, assuming Sarah would indeed join this band. 

“Right then recruits!” she roared, “Enough fucking about! If you are here to join the Consano then shut the fuck up! I want each of you to fill out your name on the wall there, along with your next of kin! I then want you to grab something to eat and retire to your rooms! Rooms are upstairs, and you will find that the vacant rooms have the keys sitting on the outside of the door! We will visit you one by one throughout the night, and then we will give you a proper briefing at dawn tomorrow!”

Sarah had grown accustomed to foul language over her years traveling this savage land. Still, there was something unsettling about hearing it from the voice of a woman, and a supposedly noblewoman at that. Despite this Sarah did not cringe as she may have only days before. She could not bring herself to care what words were used by those around her. As of late, such matters had never seemed more insignificant. 

What was significant was her own decision about whether to stay. Sarah grunted with frustration at the thought of her first night’s true sleep being interrupted by one of these two nobles. However, the young woman doubted there was anywhere else to stay for the night and it did not seem that Sir Chester or Lady Buxton were the sort to be argued with about interview methods. Glancing around the room, her eyes fell upon the hooded and cloaked man in the center of the room, and an eerie chill crawled up her spine. Sarah decided that a room with a locked door behind her was more inviting than an hour spent wandering about the streets looking for a different tavern. 

Sarah watched as several others walked to the slate board and wrote their names. She wondered if adding her own would be considered a true contract. If not signing her name, then perhaps enjoying free lodging for the night would be considered dishonest and misleading. Sarah was determined to learn more about this Consano, and particularly, those leading it, before signing herself over. She wrestled with this dilemma for a while.

For fear of being passed over in the interviews, Sarah decided that she must write her name upon the board and risk retribution should she decide to back out. However, in order to absolve herself of potential deceit, she devised a plan. Approaching the black wall, the young woman selected a slanted piece of chalk and began dragging it across the stone.

“Sarah Payne”     

It was her maiden name. By Dawnish law, Sarah would have the right to choose her name following the mourning period of her widowhood. Eventually she would have to decide between her two fathers to claim guardianship and assist her in finding a new husband. Until then, she was answerable to no man. Should she break her word and choose not to join the Consano, it would only be one household she shamed, and by the God of Light it would not be her sweet Cavil’s. She had brought him too much dishonor as it was. 

Dishonor. The word weighed heavily upon Sarah’s shoulders as she climbed the wooden planks that served for stairs, dragging her heavy pack behind her. Her failure to provide her Love with an heir before he left this world would likely never be righted. There was still some hope in Sarah’s heart that her monthly bleeding would pass her by, just this once. Perhaps the God of Light would see fit to grant her this mercy and bestow Cavil’s son upon her. Three years of their union had passed and despite endless prayer and petition, she had received no such blessing. Perhaps this time... perhaps.

Sarah did not take the time to scout her surrounding as she kicked open the crooked door to a room. The lock was jammed and Sarah wondered if it would hold when tested. Groaning with frustration, she picked up her pack and moved on to a different room. She was not about to be robbed in the middle of the night for being too lazy to select a decent door. Neglecting to light a candle, the young woman threw off her wool and stripped all but her leather undergarments from her chilled flesh. Stumbling in the darkness, Sarah fell onto the cot, and mustered the last bit of her strength to pull her furs over the thin tavern blankets which smelled of cheap ale and sweat.