" What evil have I ever done unto anything?" Lady Aoife balked, indignant. " Even Brige is the one to kill my chickens for me! And to call me as a hoor!"

" We already know the man to be untrustworthy," Sif said, eating a pastry. " But if it's something we can use to make him go away, perhaps we should. If the body no longer has a soul, there's no need to pay reverence to it."

To him, it seemed a simple matter. And he tired of war; it drained him to be needed by so many people. He would much prefer returning to his carefree days frolicking in the woods. Didn't everyone else with him feel the same?

" Is it really alright?" Rágn questioned. " After all, Lord Hélna, he could be lying... This Dubhán has never been well-regarded. Even his own people fear him."

" The lie they told was that they wanted the river clear for ships coming from across the sea," Yrnhold said. " I would think that recovering this body has been their goal all along."

" Well then, what do they want it for?" Rágn said, annoyed. " They're losing, again and again, yet still coming back to get beaten. It must be of great worth."

" What matters, Rágn, is that they pardon us, leave the Calmat, and allow Lord Hélna," Yrnhold said.

So it was decided that Sif would go across the river, to dredge up the god of Bronze Lake.

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