THAT NIGHT, ODO FOUND ME huddled by myself in the chapel.

I was actually praying. Praying about what to do. If there was indeed a God, I did not believe He would let a bunch of scheming, well-fed pawns like Father Julian, who didn't give a thought to whether my men lived or died, crush their resolve.

I know we're deep in shit, Odo said with a snort, if we've got you praying.

How many of our men are still left? I asked.

Half, maybe less. By tomorrow, who knows? Perhaps not even enough to hold the city. We still have some good ones. Georges, Alphonse, the Morrisaey boys... even Father Leo. Most of those who've been with us from the start.

I gave him a weak smile. Still trusting me?

No, I wouldn't say that. Let's just say, if they're making their bet with God, they trust the holy lance more than they trust that slimy church mouse.

I pulled the lance from the bench next to me and cradled it in my palms.

So... ? Odo said. That thing providing any answers? What is next?

What is next, I replied, is that it's me Stephen wants, or at least this... not your souls. This edict is a challenge: `Come face me if you have the will.' I've no choice but to go.

Go? Odo laughed. You're going to march on Bord with what we've got left?

No, my friend. I shook my head. I'm going to march on Bordalone.

It seemed to take Odo a second to decide whether to object or roll his eyes. You're going to Bord? Just you and that spear?

You see what he's telling me, Odo? He has burned villages to get this lance. He killed my wife and child. He has Emilie now. What else can I do?

We can wait. Keep Baldwin under guard unti............