Dearest Zann,

The following night I was back at Kayar’s Tavern with Ostavon and Fafafa. I had just sat back down after singing the Grieving Mother Ballad for everyone (to polite appreciation from the crowd), when a thought came to me.

“Fafa,” I said.

“Ybel,” Fafafa answered.

“You know how I said I’m trying to find more people for the Rosolla Guard?”

He took a drink and shifted to face me directly. “I do know.”

“Is there anybody you know who’d be good? It is your line of work.”

He put his drink down. “It’s an interesting question. I know a lot of soldiers and warriors, yes. Some have their boots up at the moment. But…”

I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t, and I said, “But?”

“…But, what happens if I tell you that Jacko Swingsword is just the man for you, and you make him a Rosolla Guard, and then Jacko swives the captain’s wife or steals the wine fund or something? Because with soldiers, you never know. And then you may be in trouble for bringing him in, and it may cause a problem in our friendship. And I value our friendship.”

“That’s well said,” Ostavon said, tugging at his beard.

“What if he doesn’t?” I said. “What if he’s great? You wouldn’t want to deprive me of someone who’s great, would you?”

“Of course not.”

“And I can’t imagine anyone you name being the kind of useless smackarse who’d get me in any kind of trouble.”

“Neither can I,” Fafafa said, taking a careful sip. “Well. I will certainly find someone if you want me to. I’ll send a message to your roost tomorrow with some names?”

“Please, yes,” I said. “I appreciate it.”

“I think that’s the right decision, Fafa,” Ostavon said. “I think you’re doing the right thing.”

“Oh, I do too,” he answered. “I just hope it works out well for our Ybel.”

“Why wouldn’t it?” I said.

“You’ve been a soldier, Ybel,” Ostavon said. “You know that things don’t need a reason to go wrong.”

And that was the truth. Fafafa left shortly after that and we weren’t far behind him.

Love,

Ybel