Sir Robert next asked about the battle. Sir Orin told him again what he had said earlier, that Krell was felled but Kemmler escaped. Duke Tancred was sending parties out to hunt for Kemmler, but little hope was now held as he seemed to have made good his escape into to Vaults. It was expected that soon most of the party would return to Quenelles, the Parravonians having already left, but that some would be required to escort the monks at least as far as Nuln, and possibly all the way to Talabheim, now that their monastry had been destroyed.

Sir Orin then surprised Robert by asking him, "Would I be correct in thinking that your father ensured you were taught Reikspiel?". Sir Robert replied that this was the case, although he was far from fluent. "In that case," Sir Orin continued, "you may be given the chance to improve your fluency. I must speak with the Duke.". Sir Robert's heart leapt. He hardly dared believe that he would join the party escorting the monks to Nuln, yet that seemed to be the implication. It seemed likely that Sir Orin would be going, he was fluent in Reikspiel and seemed well known to the monks, but that he should accompany him rather than return to the court in Quenelles seemed like an almost impossible adventure. Sir Orin obviously saw the look on his face, for he said "Don't get your hopes up yet. It may be that the Duke will wish to bring you safely back to Quenelles until he's sure of your recovery. You should concentrate on getting better for now and not try and run before you can walk."

Sir Robert sat, wrapped in thought for a minute, before starting guiltily. "What of Donal, my squire?" he asked, "How did he in the battle? Is he okay?"

Sir Orin nodded. "In wondered how long it would take you to remember you had a squire now. He's fine, the squires stood off and rained arrows on our enemies, he saw nothing of the hand to hand fighting. He will be along later to help you dress for this evening. Anyway, I must go now - I have much to see to before the light fails. I shall meet you at dinner."

With that, Sir Orin left, and the monk pushed a cup of sweet-tasting liquid into Sir Robert's hands. He did not get more than half way down the cup before his eyelids drooped and the monk took it from him as he slipped gently back into sleep.

He was woken later by Donal. His squire's face looked anxious, but pleased to see him alive. Sir Robert did not feel much like talking, but Donal was more than happy to regale him with tales of how the battle had been carried, and how the squires' arrows had turned back the skaven tide! He told him also of how the honour among the knights errant had been awarded by general acclamation to Sir Meliance de Couronne, who had been made knight the previous evening along with a half-dozen or so other knights errant who had shown themselves worthy in the conflict. Eventually, Sir Robert was dressed in his finest tunic and hose, with a thick cloak of fine wool to protect him and his sword buckled around his waist, and he was ready to go to the dinner.

The dinner was held in a great marquee that had been erected in the fields of the ruined abbey. Another marquee held the kitchens, and a covered passage joined them so the food could be brought in without being exposed to the elements. The bards were singing tales of the great victory the Duke had wrought, and of the deeds of Sir Etien who was seated next to the Duke at the high table. Sir Orin was there too, away from the positions of highest honour but on the high table nonetheless. Sir Robert was seated near the foot of one of the four long tables, with other knights errant, almost as far from the Duke as it was possible to be and stil be seated, and therefore mercifully distant from the bards.

The dinner passed in a blur. Donal waited on him, and ensured that his goblet was filled with small beers rather than strong wine, as the monks had instructed. Yet he hardly tasted the meats, his appetite not yet being fully returned and his stomach still tender, and although the smells tantalised him they seemed ashy on his tongue. At last the feasting was over, and Duke Tancred rose to speak.

After the usual florid speech that is expected after a feast, the Duke reached his serious business. He announced that the next day they would break camp and would make their way back to Quenelles around the borders of Athel Loren, now haste did not necessitate their passing through that strangely enchanted land. He also announced that Sir Orin Neville-Smythe would be travelling to Nuln with a party of knights to escort the monks to safety, and would then be continuing to Altdorf to take his place as the Duke's emissary at the court of the Emperor. Sir Orin rose and replied in a suitably flowery manner, promising to do his best to forward the interests of Quenelles and Bretonnia, and to cause of united front to be presented to the Undead of the Grey Mountains, that threatened both realms.