She sat by the quiet waters, stared vacant-eyed toward its farther shore. Turning, she glanced at Demo.
"I remember, when I was a little girl, a poem. It was of a brave warrior, and the woman he loved."
She spoke the stanzas, not to him; softly to herself. Her voice, partially choked by emotion, blended with the soft wind and the rippling waves of the tarn.
"For love of maiden fair,
"He walks untrodden ways,
"And fights with dragons in the air,
"And evil ogres he slays.
"For love of maiden fair,
"He sailed on unknown seas,
"And dared the demon in his lair.