Ser Angus couldn’t keep his eyelids shut throughout the night. He had gulped down a jar of wine, hoping it would ease his thoughts and relax him a bit, but things didn’t go as planned.

He felt sober and, somewhat, wiser than ever. His rationality bore the violent waves of emotions. Maybe it is what wine does. Or it was just for now.

In the dead silence, he heard wind pass through the archways. He took the sound as the screams of those people who he had sent into the cauldron.

Although he hadn’t heard their yells, he had been told how it had been.

One was quiet till his organs got cooked whereas the other two screamed till their lungs burst. The only way to bury their sound was to submerge them completely in the boiling water.

Executioners had done so but the bubbles had brought their voices out.

None of them were taken out until the bubbles had disappeared. Ser Angus was told he had arrived just when their bodies were being taken out.

I should have taken the horse. His emotions told him.

They shouldn’t have mocked me. His rationality came to his aid.

Ser Angus took the side of his logical thinking despite of knowing his emotions had won. It was merely that his emotions weren’t powerful enough to convince him.

But it kept him awake….and thinking the same thing in a loop. Somehow it tired his brain and dragged his eyelids down. His eyes became heavy then the eyelids folder over them.

Ser Angus turned to his left for his right shoulder hurt laying on the same side for hours. There he saw Fierlo infron of him.

For a moment, he thought wine had finally got him. However, Fierlo wasn’t blurry and the dagger he held was shining in candle light.

Fierlo's hands were shaking due to its weight.

"This must have come from Padraig's head, isn’t it?" Ser Angus sat on his bed, "Considering you being his listener."

"Yes." Fierlo's hands became steady.

"Beware, he doesn’t speak truth."

"I know." Fierlo tossed the knife on his bed sheet, "He made a promise to me."

"What did he offer me for killing me?"

"Freedom."

"Nothing will make Padraig give it to you."

"That's what I am here instead of following him."

"And what makes you think I will grant it to you?"

"Because you and I, both, are in the same state." Fierlo leaned forward, "Confined. I can tell you don’t feel free here."

Ser Angus' eyes narrowed.

Fierlo added, "Sometimes, I feel you are more of a prisoner than I am. You have spent your youth serving Wernh'An, you were most anxious man here when he was gone and you didn’t even hesitate to give him your eye when he was in trouble. Yet, Wernh'An favors Padraig over you."

Ser Angus let a laugh, "It doesn’t matter whom our lord favors. His hand can only be born, not chosen."

"You keep whistling this and Padraig will be the one to survive Great Invasion – "

"Quiet." Ser Angus snapped.

"People are sleeping." whispered Fierlo.

"I shouldn’t be listening to you. You shouldn’t even be here."

"Yet you are and here I am."

"You are enticing me to murder Padraig?" Ser Angus said.

"You already want him dead. I am just telling you why I want the same thing."

"No matter whatever Padraig does, he is no threat to me." Ser Angus thought, "But if you want him killed, I won't stop you."

"I will kill Padraig tonight."

A sound from outside pulled Ser Angus' head. His eyelids split apart, seeing a shadow in the bottom of the door.