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avoiding the occasional drunken forms of recent tavern patrons, until he reached the Crown Inn. According to Abbra, Casimir’s room was on the top floor, two windows from the north corner.
    He noticed that most of the windows, including Casimir’s, were open to draw in the cool night air, for the preceding day had turned unseasonably warm. Duncan’s only chance of gaining entrance to Casimir’s room was through that window, and getting into Casimir’s room was the only way left to find out for sure whether the knight wore a Vincero medallion.
    A sliver of moon was Duncan’s only light as he made his way to the back side of the inn near the kitchen. This portion of the building was only one story tall, with the chimney for the kitchen ovens jutting up next to the second story. Duncan climbed onto a barrel and hoisted the rope onto the roof. From there he clambered onto the kitchen roof and used the sill and casings of one of the second-story windows, along withthe stones of the inn’s chimney, to climb to the second-story roof. He fastened the rope around the chimney and carefully made his way along the steeply pitched surface to the place just above Sir Casimir’s window.
    Duncan paused to catch his breath from the challenging climb. As his breathing grew quiet again, his heart began to race. All of his planning could not prepare him for the intensity of this moment. If he was discovered—and if Sir Casimir was indeed a Vincero Knight—then Duncan’s chances of surviving would be very slim.
    He had never considered failure and what that would mean not only to him but to the rest of the Knights of the Prince. His muscles tightened and his legs began to quiver as his mind entertained potential calamities. He was quickly losing his nerve.
    Stop it! You’ve come too far to turn back now.
    Duncan steeled himself against the encroaching fear, took a deep breath, and slowly lowered himself down the rope to the sill of Casimir’s window. The rope was just long enough for Duncan to reach the window, and he was grateful the sill was wide enough to stand on. Using the rope to help him, he was able to balance at the side of the window, listening for any indication that he had been detected. There was none. He quietly opened the window farther and slipped into the room.
    Duncan stepped out of the faint moonlight that entered through the window and into the dark shadows of the room. He edged to the left, hoping nothing was there to topple. Then he paused, listening closely to the sounds of deep breathing across the room. He hoped Casimir was as exhausted as Kendrick had seemed to be.
    Duncan willed his trembling muscles to relax as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. This room was a fair bit larger than the room at their inn, which was expected since the Crown Inn was nearly twice the cost and reserved for prestigious guests. He scanned the room quickly, hoping he might be fortunate enough to see the medallion on a table or clothes hook. Then he moved across the room, one step at a time, testing each floorboard for creaks before placing his full weight on that foot.
    It was a painstakingly long process, but he finally arrived at Casimir’s bedstand. He felt the top gingerly with his fingers, searching for the token of evil that would confirm his suspicions about Casimir. His lack of reward forced him to consider the possibility that these Vincero Knights never removed their medallions from their persons.
    He felt for the handle of a drawer in the bedstand and gently pulled. It creaked, and Casimir stirred. Duncan froze. Casimir mumbled and rolled toward the edge of the bed nearest Duncan. Duncan slowly moved his hand from the drawer handle to the hilt of the knife on his belt. He waited for Casimir to open his eyes as his mind went wild, considering what might happen next. Much to Duncan’s relief, Casimir stilled.
    Duncan remained motionless and his muscles began to ache as he waited for Casimir’s breathing to become heavy