Pike felt a strange sense of disappointment and confusion upon hearing that the witch might have a husband.

"I mean, you've seen with your own eyes that it's a woman, right?" asked Rel.

Pike wasn't so sure, but he nodded all the same.

"But sometimes, she has the voice of a man. It's no magic! That is to say, the only magic done was to trap her husband's soul inside of her. You know the Cimbrans have been at odds with the enemy to the west, right? Her husband was set to be their king, and when the Cimbrans killed him, she swallowed his soul. At times he surfaces, and leads her to wage war against the Cimbran army."

Min was fascinated, while Pike listened carefully.

"She uses her magic to control the enemy's boats at her husband's command. Most likely why she came to Hofingrad in the first place; planning to escape by sea. And when she was cornered, her husband took over, slicing down soldiers until at last they were captured."

"So which one has Pike been speaking to?" asked Min, "The husband or the wife?"

The warden's brow was knitted tighter than the knots his mother used to weave his father's fishing nets.

"Where did you hear all this from, anyway?" questioned Pike.

"One of the men told me while we were taking a leak. I've every reason to believe him though; seemed a trustworthy sort, even bothered to tell me he knows a place we can stay when we get to Velmund. He'll even give us a discount since it's our first time traveling there."

Min knocked him on the head.

"You think we can afford to stick around?" he asked, "I plan on turning back and walking home the moment our task is finished; after those rats got into our grain store, my mother hasn't stopped panicking about the winter fast approaching."

"But Pike, you'll stay a while, right?" hoped Rel, "It's not like we'll have a chance to see the city again."

"I'll think about it," came the half-hearted reply. There was too much on his mind, and too many questions he needed to ask the witch at the next feeding time.

"Seems like a waste in my opinion," said Min, "Forinstad is a big enough place to visit as it is, I can't imagine the capital to be any grander. I've already been to no less than three separate feed stores. Even if the capital has four, it's still too far to carry things back home again."

"Forinstad is nothing compared to Velmund!" cried Rel in the defense of the capital he'd never seen, "Why else do you think we're taking the witch there, even though it's the other side of the country? It's not like Forinstad could deal with the Maddening Witch!"

"The what?" asked Pike, unconcerned by the debate over Velmund or Forinstad, and more interested in the title afforded to the witch.

"Haven't you heard it before?" asked Min, "The Protector coined it, I think. Before they found her, all the posters demanding her capture spoke of the 'Maddening Witch'. I guess there isn't a name to be given when two souls inhabit one body... Even at the tavern in Forinstad they had it plastered outside."

"Oh, Forinstad, Forinstad!" cried Rel, "You'll see for yourself how superior Velmund is, and then you can stop your paltry comparisons!"

As Min and Rel walked off to continue singing the overtures of the only two cities they'd heard of, Pike was left thinking about the Maddening Witch. He'd seen nothing of the posters, and knew little of the fugitive before the army knocked at his door, stating that they needed local men to bolster their ranks. He rarely left Hofingrad, content as he was to feed and care for the animals, and sit at the viewpoint watching the boats when his work was done.

His father had been a fisherman, just as the fathers before him had been. Pike was the one to break with tradition, his mother refusing to send her son out to sea after her husband was lost to it. It was said a storm devoured his vessel, and all plans to have Pike follow in his father's footsteps were abandoned before he was even in long trousers.

Had the prisoner been transported by sea, his mother might not have let him go.

"You're back," said the witch, "I missed you."

Pike snorted as the carriage door was bolted behind him.

"I'd have thought you had enough company as it is," said Pike, setting the food down on the bench as he stooped to divest himself of the items concealed in his armor.

"Company?" asked the witch, "Save from your own, I've only myself to talk to."

Pike said nothing of the witch's husband, squinting into the dim light as he organized the supplies he'd brought, and praising himself for the expert care he was willing to provide to the creature in his charge.

"How far are we from where they're taking me?" asked the witch.

"I wouldn't know," confessed Pike, "It's not like I've had a reason to see the capital before. Didn't you flee from there in the first place? I'm sure you'd have a better idea than I would."

"There's not much to see through the boarded up windows," said the witch, "And I lost track of which day we were on... besides, I've never been all the way to Velmund before. I was in Forinstad when I was left with no choice but to run."

"Well, you couldn't risk your husband's capture, could you..?"

Pike's words hung in the air while the witch tried to make sense of them.

"A husband..?"

"Ah, I suppose that's who I'm talking to now; trapped as you are in the body of your wife. Do you get to take turns at the reins? Or do you keep her soul from speaking lest she question the actions you took that led you to this dire situation..? It's no matter I suppose, your fate has been sealed regardless."

"Forgive me if I've failed to put this all together," said the witch, "But do you believe, not only that my body is that of a woman, but that I am residing within it as some kind of spirit..?"

Pike took a seat beside him on the wooden bench and fed a little water into his mouth.

"Your secrets are well known," said Pike, "It's clear this body is not that of a man."

The witch near spat as he broke into disbelieving laughter.

"Does it amuse you?!" cried Pike in indignation, "To have invaded this poor woman in order to extend your pitiful life? Do you know what they say of you?"

"How should I know?" the witch replied, "No one talks to me but you. I know this carriage is dark, but surely not dark enough to obscure what's right before your eyes. How is this the body of a woman? Look again at my throat, touch a finger to the stubble forming on my face... as attractive as you may think me, I assure you I am nothing but a man."

"Who thinks you attractive?" asked Pike, "I only think you are a woman. The washerwoman in Hofingrad has whiskers and a hump, but she's still decidedly a female."

"Then if those aren't enough to convince you, why not try your hand at feeling for yourself what I keep between my legs..?"

"You would have me touch your wife in so degrading a manner?" cried Pike.

"Oh for fuck's sake," replied the witch, "Just touch my dick if you really cannot trust my words alone to absolve me. This body is my own! Chained as it is at the mercy of the Cimbran army..."

Pike watched the witch's eyes closely, fearful that some trick was at play; his fingers inching nearer to uncharted territory. Even at home he was yet to discover a woman's secrets; but here the offer was made to him so readily.

"If only to prove your lies," said Pike, opening the coarse and stained breeches and sliding his hand across the matted hair they contained.

The skin was clammy, caked in layers of sweat and urine; but the spongy apendage could not be mistaken for anything belonging to female anatomy. Further inspection at the tips of his fingers proved the witch was none too dissimilar from himself; with Pike only withdrawing his hand when the entirety of the area had been explored in full.

"That makes this next part easier then," said Pike, dousing a rag he'd brought with water and proceeding to feed it inside the witch's clothes as he wiped away the filth of the journey.

"Is that all you have to say on the matter since your theory was disproven?!" the witch enquired.

"So you are a man, what of it?" Pike replied.

He should have guessed the stories were founded in nothing but imagination, the discovery that his friends were misinformed was nothing new. Knowing that the witch was a man seemed to straighten things out between them, if only because it meant the witch had no husband to speak of.

"You have had your proof, you don't need to keep touching it as though it might come off in your hand."

"I'm cleaning you," said Pike, "You may have learned to live with the smell, but it doesn't mean that I have to."

"And if I really had been a woman?" asked the witch, "Would you have done the same?"

"Fortunately, that's no longer an issue," said Pike, wetting the rag and plunging once more into the depths of the witch's breeches.

Once the reddened area was suitably purified, Pike took another rag to dry it, and sprinkled a dusting of smuggled corn starch to alleviate the witch's discomfort.

"Do you have children to care for at home?" asked the witch.

"Animals," Pike replied, "So it's much the same I would think."

"Children and animals?"

"You... and the animals. Hurry and take your supper; you can empty yourself into the flagon once you're done. Try and hold it next time, I haven't the patience to always clean up after you just to save my nose."

Returning to the little patch of dirt where Rel and Min were resting, Pike chose not to relay the news that the witch was a man; he felt it was better they didn't come to know exactly how he'd found out. In the time he'd seen to the witch's needs, his friends had already moved on to the latest news they'd heard about the prisoner.

"So it might not have another soul inside it," stated Rel, "Because the husband is said to be still living! My friend from Velmund was telling me the reason they needed extra men for the transport, is not because the witch poses any kind of threat; but because the husband is likely to try and snatch her back."

"Last time it was tales of possession, and now there's an enemy willing to follow us across the Cimbran Isle? You realize there would be no chance of escape? We're as far from the sea to the west as we are from the east," Pike challenged.

"I don't think Pike understands what it is to love," said Min, "I'm sure there are even grander ways for a man to show his devotion, than by risking his life against an army."

"And what love have you ever felt?" asked Pike, "Rubbing up against that girl round the back of Hafing's warehouse doesn't count you know?"

"Not his eldest?!" Rel chimed in, "Oh, but I was planning to buy her a ribbon in Velmund! I'd be better finding myself a city girl; all the ones at home have had their fun without me."

"You there! Neophytes!" called the commander, "Pack up and move out! We're not stopping again until nightfall!"

"When we get to the capital I'll find myself a girl alright," grumbled Rel, "If only to have someone rub my poor feet!"

At nightfall, the aching of their bodies hit its peak. Another night sleeping on the rough terrain was stretching out ahead of them, but not before Pike had attended to his duties. The witch still needed to be fed before he could turn in to join the others.

"Hurry! Hurry!" cried the witch in the darkness, "I held it as promised but I can't hold it any longer!"

Pike had prepared for such an event, and remembered to bring a cup this time that he'd 'borrowed' from Min. Pouring the water into the wooden vessel and setting it carefully aside; he hurriedly reached for the witch's dick and aimed it into the flagon's mouth.

The witch sighed in relief as the last drops fell, but his warden was not happy.

"My hand is covered in piss," cried Pike, "How am I supposed to feed you now? It was hard enough already in this bloody dark!"

"Did I make out you brought a cup with you..?" asked the witch, "Let me show you a trick to make the darkness vanish..."