Arngeirr looked down at the tiny man.  He heard his words and weighed their honesty, seeing the way the man fretted over every syllable.  It was not fear that drove him:  it was shame.  This was a man who was taking the blame for something that he believed was his fault.  With that in mind Arngeirr considered his own actions leading up to the day's events, and the words he had spoken within these halls just the day before.<br/><br/>Arngeirr was always a gentleman.  And if he understood this Korsarro as he believed he did, he knew what he must do.<br/><br/>The giant lowers himself to his knees, bowing before the slight monk as deeply as he could.  "No," Arngeirr says at last, "It is not simply your fault.  It is<i>our</i>fault, brother Korsarro.  I promised that I would defend Mary any way I could in time of trouble, such as the fiasco at the library.  It was my huge duty, and when I felt overwhelmed I deferred the ask to you.  It was not a transference of duty, but a sharing.  It warms my hear to see you take the blame for losing sight of her, and as a gentleman it is my huge responsibility to do the same for you.  She was entrusted to me, and I entrusted her to you.  We are both at fault."<br/><br/>The hugeman considered his words for a moment, then said, "And whatever punishment Wolfram deems is necessary, I shall justly bare with you."