The next morning, Crimson Sabatt was gone.
"She took her horse," said Marcus, "and must have left during the celebration last night. One of the guards thinks he saw her ride off, and she is probably well away now." He sighed and held up his hand. "Sabatt left a note and a book." He handed both a scrap of parchment and the mysterious book to Alandra, who shook her head as she read the short note.
"Thank you for a rather pleasant journey. Until we meet again. Crimson Sabatt"
"Doesn't make much sense to try to follow her, huh?" Kestral scratched her nose, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Well. Wisey said we should just let her run if this happens. I think he kinda expected it."
Marcus stood squarely, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he obviously considered Kestral's words, then turned his attention towards the book in Alandra's hands. "I admit I am not too keen on rounding her up again, and I reckon we're not lucky enough to have seen the last of her yet. And what is this about?"
Lady Alandra curiously opened the book where a single black feather had been placed to mark a page. There, neatly written on the blank space next to a poem that Alandra recognised in an instant, stood its translation in Sabatt's eloquent handwriting.
Alandra chuckled. "This is for me," she explained, "It is a leopard spot, and I shall treasure it." Alandra looked at the book with an expression of fondness on her face.
She had been right after all, the olive branch had simply come at the wrong time.
"A what? What are you talking about?"
"Hah, I get it!" Kestral grinned as she ran her fingers along the feathers that adorned her helmet.
"You certainly would, Kestral." Both women shared a rare knowing grin, and Alandra elaborated: "It means that among a leopard's countless spots there ought to be some, albeit hidden, that are indeed soft." Alandra chuckled slightly. "It is either an apology or a thank-you, I am not sure which."
"I see," exclaimed Marcus, who really didn't. "So this is some kind of happy ending then?"
"As happy as it gets, Lord Marcus. The last to arrive at Castle Vestholm has to check the tax records!"
The Knights swiftly prepared their horses, said their good-byes and hurried off westward, towards home.
- THE END -
And –
Never leave a moment too soon
Never waste a hot afternoon
Nobody's on nobody's side
Never stay a minute too long
Don't forget the best will go wrong
Nobody's on nobody's side