Roland, the famous paladin? Ainea was awed as she gazed at the apparition. At his side she noted, hung the fabled sword, Durandal, and from the belt, that held together the shredded rags that once might have been a tunic, was strung the horn that once upon a time had summoned Charlemagne himself, too late to succor his champion.
Despite the awe she felt, Ainea did not need a second invitation from the skeletal warrior.
"Go, the two of thee, and come this way not again."
She gave Paul an unceremonial shove towards the exit of the dread chamber, not wishing to spend more time than absolutely necessary in this ghostly company. Only when they had reached the doorway did she dare to breathe freely. A glance back showed the guardian watching their retreat in an oddly pensive attitude.
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