Sir Gallant didn't return as soon as he had promised. Days turned into weeks, then months. The arid summer gave way to gentle autumn, before silent winter took its place.

  Henry dutifully maintained both the modest estate as well as the combat skills Sir Gallant had taught to him over the years. After his daily chores of upkeeping the manor and stables, he would practice his swordsmanship in the courtyard, drilling tirelessly until well after the evening sun had set. When it became too dark for him to see, he would merely light the torches around the courtyard and continue training until his sword became too heavy to lift.

  Every night, Henry would prepare dinner and set the table for two; whenever midnight arrived and the other torches in the town had long been snuffed out, he maintained a lone torch burning at the manor's front gate, hoping that it would act as a beacon for the knight to find his way back home.

  After two months had passed, he alerted the town garrison to Sir Gallant's absence; however, as mere watchmen, there was nothing more they could do than file a report to the Knight's Bureau and send a cursory search party to the area. Unfortunately, as a dragon was involved, the watchmen refused to ride anywhere near the area, forcing Henry back to square one.

  He refused to believe Sir Gallant had perished. Even as the autumn leaves were covered by the first flurries of snow, he continued to practice relentlessly in the courtyard, holding on to the faith that he would see the knight arrive at the gates as he always had after a quest.

  His steadfast faith buckled as the snow melted and spring rolled around. Sir Gallant had gone on long quests before, yes, but never this long, never more than six months at his longest. The gold piece Sir Gallant had given him felt heavier with each passing day, as if weighing the knight's growing absence within the metal.

  One day, when the crisp spring air had slowly begun to warm up once more in the baking noon sun, Henry at last saw a band of horsemen arrive at the manor gates. They were all wearing plate armor, but none had the distinctive plates of Sir Gallant. At their head was a figure in heraldry Henry did recognize, however.

  "Sir Paulus!" Henry quickly opened the gate for their leader. "Welcome, my lord!"

  Sir Paulus, a colossal figure that dwarfed Henry, dismounted his horse and crushed the squire in a suffocating bear hug.

  "Henry, you scoundrel! It's been too long!" The giant man let out a booming laugh that struck Henry's ears like thunderclaps. "You're much larger since I've last seen you!"

  "It's good to see you too, sir," Henry grinned. Sir Paulus' great beard flopped over his eyes and ears like a fuzzy hat, threatening to make him sneeze. "Please, come in! You and your companions are welcome to the beer and meat stores!"

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  "I appreciate it, my boy," Paulus said, finally releasing Henry. The smothering sensation was instantly replaced by a blinding one, as Paulus' shiny bald head reflected the sun like a mirror directly into Henry's eyes. "Lads! Take a breather, water your horses and satchels, then we're off again!"

  Henry frowned as the other riders, six in all, rode past them into the courtyard. "You're not staying?"

  "Unfortunately not, lad." Paulus wiped some sweat off his brow, slightly mitigating the blinding effect of his head. "We're on our way to the capital. The Knight-Regent has summoned us for an emergency council." He cocked his eye at Henry. "Still no word from Sir Gallant?"

  "No, sir." Henry shook his head. "It's... been a while. I'm worried."

  "And the town watch?"

  "No use, sir. Mention a dragon, and they'll scarcely ride beyond the town's walls."

  Paulus nodded, his face grim now. "I understand, lad. Gallant's not the sort to disappear like this, especially not with a squire in his charge about to undergo the Trials."

  "I want to go after him, sir." Henry looked down the road longingly. "He expressly forbade me from following, but it's been too long!"

  Paulus shook his head. "The Codex forbids it, Henry. You know better than me what a knight's word is to a squire. And Gallant would be furious if he knew you disobeyed him."

  Henry hung his head; Paulus was right, of course, but the unease in his gut was pervasive. Still, a squire disobeying his master's word was an act that was unforgivable in the Codex, an action that was tantamount to sacrilege; were Henry to ride out to find Sir Gallant himself, against the knight's direct orders, his status as a squire would be forfeit, let alone his candidacy for the Trials.

  As if reading his thoughts, Paulus placed a hand on Henry's shoulder. "Listen lad, Gallant may have told you to stay put. But he has no power over me, and his questing area does happen to be on the way to the capital."

  Henry's eyes lit up, meeting Paulus'. He frowned though, as another thought came to mind. "But sir... the Codex forbids you from interfering in another knight's quest without an invitation...?"

  Paulus chuckled. "I'm not interfering, lad. I'm merely passing through. If I find Gallant alive and well out there, I'll pass word along to you; if not, I will return to the area after the council, and search for as long as I can."

  The young squire nodded, eyes shining. "Thank you, my lord! I'd truly appreciate it!"

  Paulus winked at him. "I know Gallant. He's a genius with the sword and lance, but a doddering fool when it comes to common sense." He whistled to the other knights, who were resting in the courtyard. "Alright lads, back to your saddles! We'll make a slight detour at Axe Hill Forest, then ride on to Valmorra!"

  As the others began mounting their horses once more, Paulus climbed onto his own horse, before fixing his gaze back on Henry.

  "We'll find him, one way or another. Rest assured, I won't return without something."

  Henry nodded and stepped back, allowing the other riders to stream back out of the gate. Sir Paulus was the last to leave, waving back to Henry as he did so.

  "Have faith, lad! I'll be back within a week, you have my word!"

  And with that, the leader reassumed his position at the head of the troop, his bald head shining in the sun like a great beacon as the band of knights rode down the road.