Ancalasse did not blink an eye that night.
There were many angles to the fight that was coming the next day. If Daegond to kill Meluilindele, which he thought Daegond would Losgael would be strayed from her order and grief would consume her. Reducing her into a pile of rubble.
If he did deny Daegond to fight, the hound would surely use it to his benefit. Spreading tales of favouritism. The previous time he did that in the mountains was nearly disastrous for Ancalasse's well established reputation as a good quartermaster.
If he championed Losgael he would smite Daegond in a battle. But then Daegond would use this again to separate the couple, spreading rumors of Meluilindele's unworthiness to claim a hammer hand.
He turned left to right, and right to left. Dwelling in dark thoughts. Then kicked the order's black blanket off his legs and stood up. Glancing to the bridge from his window, the venue of tomorrow's fight. It was burning white under the full moon. He kept looking and tried to find a way out from this deadlock. This whole situation was about to turn into one of the biggest crisis' this valley was about to see. Then he started to check the monthly quartermastery inventory in order to calm himself... This was soothing for Ancalasse very much. Whetstones, bootlaces, skinning knives, leathers to patch overcoats, hinges to repair a door in the battlefield, naphta oil to lubricate cartwheels, moulds and saw to start a civilization.
Then he looked up and did a double take on the inventory. Read and reread the roster... In the meanwhile he seemingly was dwelling on some idea ferociously.
Moments later he kicked open the Order Armoury and after a time of searching, he found what he was looking for. An earthware jug with a cork. On it there was a label and a icon of a wheel. He left the armoury open and ran outside, all the way to the bridge.
Ancalasse carefully surveyed the field that the spar would take place in five hours. He tried to imagine where would Daegond be in the spar, and his possible angles of attack in it. It seemed to him that if Meluilindele could stand tall and proud on the peak of the bridge that would enrage Daegond greatly. He knew the hound. Ancalasse ran to the peak from bridge's base as to mock Daegond's theoretical charge. Two thirds of the charges ended on the same tilestone he noticed. His feet was coming on the third tile on the right side of the bridge peak. Quite a find. Then Ancalasse smiled. He bit the naptha jug's cork and generously oiled that tilestone. Then wiped it into a thin layer that could only be noticed by an eagle. And before the dawn broke, he was back into his bed again.
"Well hound" He said to himself. "It was about time to repay that chair you broke on my back"
Then he allowed himself to rest for a short while before the fight commenced.
