Black Hart

To Kill A King

Chapter 13 - The Shriven Oak

As Akhan waited with Mordekei, Hanali walked by, gesturing to him to go around the corner. His heart pounding, Akhan excused himself and walked round to meet his lover.
"I will come to you tonight," she said.
Someone was walking towards them. She smiled at Akhan.
"Expect me," she said.
She glanced at the person approaching.
"Lominstrall. I must go."
She turned and walked back the way they had come. Akhan paused for a moment.
As the King's Chamberlain passed him he smiled and nodded, before continuing on his way. Akhan did not think he had seen them together. He returned to Mordekei, his heart still beating fast.

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As he waited for his companions, Zarn approached Mordekei.
"I would speak with you a moment," the arch-mage said in hushed tones, guiding Mordekei into a dull corner. Zarn looked extremely worried.
"I have been guarding an awesome book of some power, the Demonomicon of Iggwilv, for Aranon while he was absent. It was in my home in the Axewood."
"Was!" thought Mordekei.
"Yes," Zarn said, as he saw Mordekei was guessing the conclusion.
"I checked today and it was gone. It could easily have been used by any mage of note, and even those not so noted, to summon that Pit Fiend. Nobody in the Axewood has seen anyone out of place there, and, believe me, they would know. And not many folk even know where my abode is. Whoever took this is either extremely powerful or knows me well. It could have been stolen up to a week ago, and none of my protections were triggered. I just thought you should know. "
Zarn shrugged and walked off as Jean-Paul, then Akhan, returned.

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Eloi left Bermen to go to the kitchens.
When he arrived there he found that Patrach had more questions about the events than he did. It seemed the whole Palace was buzzing with rumours of treacherous Barons, scarlet-robed assassins and dark Drow murderers. Eventually Eloi managed to silence him, asking about Ariall.
"I'm not sure," Patrach replied. "I don't know the city myself, but she did go on about the inn where she worked, made you wonder why she left. The Painted Man this, the Painted Man that, all she ever used to go on about. I think it was near the docks, but I'm not sure."
As he turned back to the rumours, Eloi excused himself and went upstairs to pack. As he approached his room door, he sensed there was someone inside. Drawing his flail, he pushed the door open and was relieved to see Frederikson in his room, packing the last of Eloi's belongings into a saddlebag.
He looked up.
"Ah, Master, em I mean, your Lordship, Sir Pascal asked me to accompany you to the city and I took the liberty of packing your belongings for you."
Eloi stood there dumbstruck as the squire closed the bags, tying the brittle-looking rapier to one of them. Without a word he led Frederikson downstairs, out to the front door where Bermen waited on horseback. Friederikson's horse and Bray, in the finest condition Eloi had ever seen him, were there too. Bermen noticed Eloi's stunned silence as they rode out of Axewood towards Edalsvell.

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Mordekei, Jean-Paul, Akhan and the inimitable Ash wandered down to the Shriven Oak, in the village.
As Akhan pondered Ash's training he thought again of the inscription on his collar - 'Ash - Sgt. Predik - 1st Lt. Ft'.
Perhaps if he could trace this Sergeant Predik of the 1st Light Foot he would find out how well trained Ash was. Of course there was the risk that the Sergeant was still alive and would take Ash, but somehow Akhan felt that Ash would have never stopped looking for his owner whilst he was still alive.
On arrival, they found the inn to be guarded. They spoke to one of Thoggin's men from the fight with the Pit Fiend, and he quickly waved them through.
Walking into the main room of the inn, a guard gave them directions to the Baron's room, and the room of the magist, who was still being held there.
As they stood there, a man seated in one of the corner booths appeared to Jean-Paul to be paying considerable attention to them. He looked away, and next moment the man was heading for the bar, walking towards him.
The paladin tensed up as he approached, somehow sensing danger, He looked for a weapon on the man, whose face was mostly hidden in his cloak's hood. His hands were visible, as though he wanted Jean-Paul to see he meant no harm.
He nudged the paladin as he passed, feigning a drunken stagger, and apologising. As he did so, he whispered to Jean-Paul in the quietest tones.
"Eleven bells tonight, in the stable out back. Alone!"
The man headed off to the door. Glancing around, Jean-Paul did not think the other two, talking with the guard, had seen what had happened.
As Akhan glanced away from the man who had bumped into Jean-Paul, he thought to himself, "Well if he's drunk he certainly started early. Let's have a discrete look at this toss-pot."
Akhan excused himself briefly from the rest of the party.
"I'll be back shortly gents - got to see a man about a dog."
Akhan quickly scurried over to the door, looking outside after the man.
"You had better go up and talk to her soon, my Lords," the half-Olven guard in the inn's common room told Mordekei, who seemed to be the only one still listening. Jean-Paul seemed somewhat distracted by the fact that Akhan was on his way to the front door of the inn.
As Akhan peered out the front door, the guard said, "Apparently they are moving her in the next hour or so, to Dekkanisch."
The guard said the word with added emphasis, and Mordekei knew why. Dekkanisch was Keoland's largest prison, a nightmarish place that the magist would certainly not appreciate.
Akhan expected him to be close, but he saw that the man had gone a good hundred yards already, and was walking quickly away from the village centre, past the guards who were supposedly keeping the inn secured.
Akhan could see more clearly now in the late morning sunlight. The man wore a long, weather-beaten, dark cloak, and this, and the uniformity of his riding britches and boots, suggested a soldier of sorts. He could see no weapon, but a bulge to his left looked like a sword.
Akhan worried at a bit of leftover breakfast stuck in his teeth while squinting at the figure from the Inn walking off down the street. He stopped slouching against the doorjamb and rejoined the others, giving Jean-Paul his 'sweetness and light' smile and a wink for good measure.
"I'd recommend that we question everyone we can who may be connected with events - the mage, the innkeep, the retainers of the ex-Baron. My thoughts are that we ask everyone to recount the story of the last few days and account for all their movements."
"I think we need to find out who the Baron has had meetings with too. The murderer may have come to visit his victim first. Let's see who was the last to see the Baron alive too. The magist may have had the closest counsel with him so we ought to ask if he had been doing anything out of the ordinary in the last few days. We have a good bit of leverage with this mage too as there's such a large cloud of suspicion hanging over her."
"Another avenue of investigation is access to the room where the Baron was found. I'll give the room a good search and examine it for possible entry routes. I'll have a look at the outside wall too - I'll have to think how I would break into this place."
Mordekei nodded, but Jean-Paul shook his head.
"I would suggest that your social skills would be better suited to seeking out this Shebbedd O'Harle in Axewood, and try to find out some information regarding his group's activities. Perhaps you could infiltrate the group."
"Jean-Paul, Mordekei and I reckon we should give this place the once-over," Akhan stated, sensing a change in the paladin's usually pleasant mood. "We're going to look for ways in which this killer may have gained access and Mordy's going to use his mysterious Powers to detect any magical goings on."
Akhan was wiggling his outstretched fingers in his best 'mage's fireball-casting' impersonation.
"First, I'm going to get me a refreshment. Innkeep - a cup of wine!"
Turning back to the others, Akhan continued more seriously.
"Jean-Paul, maybe we could work the interrogation like this - you and Mordekei ask the questions you've got while I sit at the back. It's always good to have someone sitting at the back 'cos it unnerves the buggers."
Akhan was thinking unfondly of an 'interrogation' by the constables in Rel Mord where the person at the rear had done more than unnerved him, and he fondled an old scar at his hairline as he recalled.
"I've got some lines of questioning I want explored too, so if I see an opening to catch the mage off guard then I'll butt in. But first, let's see if we can see how this killer got in here and enabled our smelly friend to be benobled. Come along with us Jean-Paul, you never know: you might have some talent as a thief. Ever stolen anything valuable? Don't suppose you have, being in the Paladin business."
Akhan fetched his wine from the bar, and Mordekei hustled himself outside for the search. Jean-Paul followed disinterestedly behind.
A quick search and it soon became apparent that even a novice could easily gain access to this wooden building. The crevices and projections, holes and patched repairs gave hundreds of handholds, and the window shutters were poorly secured. Even a fool could climb this surface, as Akhan was only too pleased to demonstrate.
He drew several strange looks from nearby guardsmen as he clambered back down from the open first floor window and they returned inside.
They then went inside, and climbed the stairs to the magist's room, where two Royal Guardsmen showed them into the room.
They were greeted by the mage from the King's Chambers, one of Thoggin's men. Kaurel'ay was bound and gagged on a chair nearby. She looked bruised and dishevelled, wearing a scruffy brown robe which was undoubtedly not from her own wardrobe.
"She's been searched for magic and has two pins in her back to prevent spellcasting," he said. "The cart from Dekkanisch will be here within the hour, so you've not much time."
He bid them good luck and left the room. Akhan immediately took a chair to the back of the room and sat there. Mordekei stood between him and the mage, and Jean-Paul set about removing her gag.

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"Is there anything I can do for you," he asked softly. She stared a defiant, sarcastic look at him.
"Set me free?" she said. "Or a glass of water might just do the trick."
Jean-Paul looked at Mordekei, who nodded his approval. The knight fetched her a cup of water from the bedside cabinet and fed it to her slowly.
"We need to ask you some questions, " he said. "Is there any reason you can think of why the Baron would kill himself?"
She seemed mildly surprised at the line and gentle tone of the questioning. Unseen to her, Akhan took the patch from the Eye, and listened to her thoughts.
"He did not have any reason, and I refuse to believe he did kill himself," she stated authoritatively. "I will tell you what I told those other goons. The Baron was drunk - he ran from the carriage on the way back and we could not stop him. I heard him return late in the morning, noisily, as though he were very drunk. Then it all went quiet, as though he were in a drunken stupor."
As she said this, Akhan heard her thoughts.
"How can I get out of this? I have done nothing wrong. How can they think he would try to kill the damned King, or himself?"
"Perhaps you should try questioning the new Baron Amarr," she continued. "From what I hear he witnessed the summoning, then managed to save the King's life. All very coincidental, don't you think?"
Again, Akhan heard the words in her mind.
"Why do they waste their time on me? We have been set up, and this Eloi wretch walks free!"
Akhan sat forward in his chair, studying the mage and sipping at the dregs of the wine. Pondering the apparent sincerity of the woman, he began to think on the mechanics of using the Baron as a patsy.
"OK, this magist has probably been set up. But if it's a set-up then it's possible that someone was feeding that drink to the Baron to make him make his incriminating outburst at the ball. His disenchantment with the King was known, but such a public accusation immediately made him more plausible as a suspect. That could have been a calculation in the traitor's web. Arrange for a fall guy to distract attention."
Akhan continued his thoughts while scraping at some dirt that had got under his fingernails whilst farting about on the walls of the Inn.
"So, what we want to know is a list of the Baron's confidantes and bosom-buddies. Who could have been in a position to be a bad influence, feed him with drink, stoke up his resentment. Didn't have to be at the ball. Maybe could have been visiting him here to turn his mind back to those rancorous events at the battle."
Akhan resumed his accustomed slouch in the chair, kicking his legs out and balancing one boot on top of the other.
"Let's see what she says to Mord and Jean-Paul's line of questioning and then I'll ask about whose been a-visiting our deceased and truculent noble of late."

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Mordekei strode over to her.
"Why did you attempt to kill the King? Why did nobody follow the Baron from the inn? Were you followed from the Palace?"
The mage looked at Mordekei in a sober manner.
"I had no reason to kill that bastard. I did not try kill that bastard, and besides the fact I take the finger of suspicion off whoever really did this, I have no idea who might want to set me up."
She wriggled with discomfort, the pins probably annoying her.
"The Baron was drunk," she continued. "And you picked me up wrong - he ran from the carriage within the wooded avenue leading from the Palace to the estate's gates. I don't know if anyone followed us back. I suspect someone either followed the Baron or killed him before staging his suicide."
Mordekei mused over her answers for a moment.
"How did your master sleep that night? A rich catch for a commoner like yourself, my dear!"
"I think you also mistake the idea of a Barony for richness - Amarr is a poor barony, with the accursed Rushmoor Castle to maintain. I doubt even the new Baron will welcome his acquisition - I hope he has money. The Baron certainly never did."
"As to how he slept, your guess is as good as mine - I never availed myself of the opportunity. Perhaps you should ask your Baron Eloi, unless he was too busy to do the deed himself, being the one present at the summoning and all!
Suddenly she became quite agitated, lurching forward in her chair and shouting at Mordekei.
"Look you decrepit buffoon, you know I had nothing to do with this - now tell them so and let me go!"
Jean-Paul gently grabbed Mordekei by the shoulder. Turning away from the magist he winked.
"Mordekei, enough, enough, we are wasting our with this fool, let us leave her to her fate. Why we thought that some second rate little baron could have anything to do with the attempt on the King's life is beyond me. By Heironeous if the King gives the barony to scum like Eloi then it shows what high regard he shows for the place."
He quickly turned towards the magist.
"By the way how do you know that there was a summoning and also how do you know that Eloi saw it? Who told you? I find it hard to believe that someone would tell a chief suspect the precise details of the crime committed?"
The mage was silent for no more than a second, then started to shake her head in disdain.
"If my life depends on you cretins finding the truth, you might as well put me to the stake just now."
"Mainly," she said, with venom in her voice, "Because stupidity is not a prerequisite in my profession as it appears to be in yours. I am charged with being a traitor, attempted regicide, and specifically the summoning of the devil who attacked the King."
"Your Mareschal Wissig charged me this morning when they found the summoning chalk and pages in secret code which no doubt will prove to be some evidence of the planned summoning. The Mareschal was happy to lay all the evidence before me and ask my response, which was the same then as it is now. Your evidence was all planted, and you cretins are too dumb to even realise it."
"So be it! If I must die for a bunch of morons, then so be it!"
From downstairs a dog's barking was heard, and Akhan recognised it as Ash, whom he had last seen sniffing about some nettles near to the inn. Rising and walking to the shuttered window, he looked out to see Ash was barking at a strange, dark and foul-looking cart with an iron cage on top and manacles therein.
It took little thought to work out that this was the prison wagon come for Kaurel'ay. It dawned on the trio that they had very little time to find out anything of worth from the magist, if indeed she would now speak to them at all
Jean-Paul looked over at the rest of the party, knowing that there was little time left to elicit a response that may help them. He held up his hands to his compadres, to hush them and turned to the magist, leaning towards her with his face inches away from hers.
"Madame, if you are not the guilty party, then may the gods rest your soul. If you are not the person we should be looking for then who do you think we should be looking for? You do not have much time, the prison wagon has arrived. If we capture the true traitors, then we may have a chance to save you from execution. We are sure the Baron has some involvement in this deed, it may be that he has some associates who are the true traitors. If so, as the Baron's mistress you would surely know of them. Any information or suspicions that you can give would help us!"
The magist shook her head slowly and sighed.
"Sir Knight, you are deeply lacking in skills of the mind. Mistress? As I have already told your friend here, I have not availed myself of that pleasure. Is that all you oversexed chauvinistic bastards can think, that I am his magist and a woman, so I must be servicing his other needs too!"
She turned as Akhan began to speak to her in the Olven tongue.

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"Sister," he said calmly. "Have you anything that would help us free you?"
"You are quiet all this time my brother - I suspect you are wiser than your companions, or are you only wise enough to know to keep your mouth shut and let people wonder if you are a fool, rather than proving so. I fear that if the summoner wishes to pin this treachery on me, that he or she is one of our own. That way if anyone guessed' or revealed his, or her, race, I would still be a good scapegoat. Other than that, I know nothing."
She paused.
"I entrust my life to you, brother."

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Mordekei's knowledge of the Olven tongue was little used, but he thought he understood what the magist said.
Jean-Paul turned to Akhan, somewhat angry, shouting, "What did she just say?"
Akhan stepped quietly from his seat and walked around him. As he did so Mordekei and Jean-Paul noticed that he had lifted his eye patch to show the green that he called 'the Eye'. He began whispering something, probably in Olven, which was barely audible to Jean-Paul and totally inaudible to Mordekei. The magist hung her head, then whispered something back, slightly louder, and definitely in Olven.
"The Baron knew Shebbedd O'Harle," she whispered in reply. "But he would have nothing to do with Redemption. He was wholly innocent brother."
Jean-Paul turned back to the magist.
"Whether you were his mistress or not I am trying to give you a chance of saving your life! If you know who did this crime then tell us! If not we have gained very little from our conversation and I am afraid that you may have sealed your fate. If you are truly not connected to this crime then may Heironeous protect you and forgive those that put you to death. If there is another traitor and we can find him in time then perhaps we can save you, but you must tell us anything else. The Baron must have had acquaintances?"
Jean-Paul paused as she ignored his rant, having lost what little patience he had left. He had his doubts as to the magist's guilt, but without clear evidence there was no proof.
He turned to the others.
"I think we can say that we have exhausted our possibilities here, we should perhaps now pursue other avenues in our investigation."
At that, there was a knock on the door, and immediately two large, rough-looking men in mainly leather clothes, reeking of stale sweat from the hot autumn day, and carrying sets of manacles, barged into the room. Without asking for leave, they proceeded to gag and manacle the magist, as silent tears streamed from her face. They then walked her, hobbling from her restraints, from the room.
As the jailors took her away, Akhan used the Eye to read her thoughts.
"The Baron loved the King - though he was angry, he would still have laid down his life for him. And perhaps he has!"
The trio stood and looked at each other.

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Jean-Paul looked perplexed as he stammered.
"We...We...Well what the hell do we do now? Did we actually gain any information that will help us find the traitor or was it a complete waste of time? I for one doubt that Arganass and his magist had anything to do with it, and are the victims of a cruel deceit. Have any of you any light you can shed on our new information, if it can be called that or any idea of what our next move should be? Perhaps we should investigate this Redemption crowd?"
Mordekei spoke softly to Akhan.
"Have you a lead on another elf?"
"Another elf?" Akhan asked, puzzled by Mordekei's question. "What do you mean? Have I a lead on another elf? Actually I was asking her about this Shebbedd character. It seems the Baron knew him, but would have nothing to do with Redemption. She claims although he was angry he was still loyal to the King, if you believe that."
Looking out the window, Akhan said, "Well, is that us? I don't know we gained much either. Where do we go from here?"
"Well I personally don't feel that the Redemptionists would have the ability to stage such a grand attempt!" Mordekei declared.
"Well we can't just sit here. To discount them just because you think they are a red herring is folly. At the moment we are sitting here with few tangible leads. We must follow up every scrap of information that we have? If we don't do this what would be your suggested course of action now then, Mordekei? Wait to see if Eloi can find this wench who no doubt has had her innards scooped out of her chest through her throat!"
Jean-Paul was getting somewhat irate at the lack of progress.
"You both seem adept at providing your opinion without providing solutions! One thing is clear we cannot just sit here waiting for the answer to fall in our laps, we must actively seek the answer and I say that seeking out this Redemption crowd is as good a start as any!"
With that outburst Jean-Paul stormed out of the room.
As the paladin stormed out, Akhan stared at Mordekei and shrugged.
"My friend, Sir Thanoin Varkrunden was of similar temperament. As bad as women these knights! I suppose we had best follow him to ensure he doesn't get into any more trouble."

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Jean-Paul sat at the bar. A street crier shouted out seven bells in the square outside the inn.
"Give me a flagon of your finest ale," he shouted to the barkeep.
He muttered to himself.
"Heironeous has surely let us down in this dark hour. I do not know how we are going to solve this crime. I can only hope that Eloi fairs better in Niole Dra."
He took a long drink of his ale and wiped the foam from his mouth, turning to Akhan and Mordekei as they entered the room.
"Well, have any of the pair of you have any better ideas on how we should proceed? I will quite happily sit here until someone comes up with a better idea than mine!"
Akhan grabbed a seat and proceeded to twist his body in various improbable rotations and resembling nothing so much as a tangled marionette.
"Sorry - got to keep things stretchy. I wouldn't want to do myself an injury. Feck this particular line of attack for the moment. I'm bored, so let's go and irritate a courtier or two. We haven't spoken to Lominstrall yet. I think we should ask him a few questions about his movements on the night of the ball. Mordekei, I seem to remember you saying something about them all being ambitious. Now, I can't see that being a reason to betray the King, their patron, but ambitious men often do things that leave them open to blackmail. Maybe our traitor is using a highly placed courtier to gain access to the palace or to the King? We can talk to the King's Advocate too while we're at it."
Akhan broke off from his musings and gave a nasty laugh.
"I should make good use of this opportunity. How often do you think a thief gets to interrogate the King's Advocate?"
Akhan leapt up from his seat.
"Coming?"
Akhan's thought suddenly returned to a point that had jumped out at him when the mage first related her story of the night of the ball.
"Why the bloody Hell didn't any of his retainers go after him? Did he tell them to stay? Did he have a meeting pre-arranged with someone? And, that story about coming back drunk sounds suspicious too. Easy enough to stick a knife in someone and then carry him back pretending they're drunk, which was very plausible in his case. So we're possibly looking for another location for the killing now. This gets worse."
Akhan began massaging his temples at the multiplying possibilities.
"I think I'll get Ash to bite someone soon if this mess doesn't improve"
Akhan settled his patch back into place as he walked out the door. He called back through the door of the Shriven Oak to Jean-Paul.
"Fine, have another beer and wait for King Brandt to return. I'm going to find Lominstrall"
He then started to saunter towards the palace, occasionally picking up a stick to throw for Ash to run after and worry to death.
Jean-Paul slugged down the rest of his ale and grumpily followed Mordekei out of the inn. He was not in a good mood.
"So, does anyone know exactly what we're going to do now or are we just going to make an arse of ourselves again. Good grief, in the time we're taking to find the culprit the King could be dead again, and for all our luck Eloi will be crowned sovereign!" he muttered sarcastically.

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Akhan strolled off leisurely towards the Palace, turning when he heard Ash's bark and the rumble of his muckle paws galloping toward him. Mordekei and Jean-Paul soon caught up with them. The number of soldiers in this area seemed to have dropped since earlier that day, probably since the magist was now gone.
In fact there did not seem to be so many soldiers in the area at all now. Perhaps it was due to the military advances to the north and west, but also many of the guests from the ball had returned home, taking their 'escorts' with them. After several checks by Palace and Royal Guards, and a few of Thoggin's men, they made it safely back to the Palace.
Enquiries there soon revealed that the King's Advocate was long gone back to the capital, and Lominstrall was nowhere to be found, although nobody seemed to think that he had left. With little left to do, the trio entered the massive dining room to eat, all three being famished as it was now early evening.
Outside the sun was starting its slow decline towards the horizon. Hamman was seated at a table near to the door and beckoned them over. He was talking to a typically Keoish-looking fellow, a soldier by his appearance and wearing the rank of Lieutenant. He nursed a wounded right arm in a sling.
Hamman gestured to the man, introducing him as Lieutenant Harbes, from the Mittelkreuze area, the wide fertile plains in the centre of Keoland. Harbes greeted them as they introduced themselves.
"The Lieutenant knows of our interest in certain people," Hamman said. "And he was kind enough to let me know that the Chamberlain, Lominstrall, has left the Palace."
Everyone looked at Harbes with interest.
"Not unusual in itself," Harbes explained. "But he had no escort with him. No bodyguard, no soldiers, nobody! I did not think to follow him, and know not where he headed, but when I heard the Prince saying he was interested in his whereabouts it did strike me as odd."
Harbes did not seem to know any more of interest, and after a while excused himself from the table as the others ate. The meal over, they talked a little, but wearied from a day's lack of progress they soon gave up and went to their respective beds.

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Aranon mopped his brow as the sweat rolled form him in the warm evening sun. He looked down at the colourless smock he wore, stained with the sweat and dirt of the past days' work as he toiled to make his village safer from attack.
As he peered around at the ditches and obstacles they had raised, he saw thankfully that the villagers had begun their healing after the events of the past weeks. They women sang as they worked in the fields for the harvest, leaving the menfolk to raise the defences under Aranon's guidance.
They had also shown that they did not blame him for their woes. In fact, for the first time since he arrived in Oakhart, many years ago, they had begun to call it Silverlief Keep, not Aurallan Keep as it was named after their previous lord.
Looking up to the keep, towering over the village on the sharp, overhanging bluff which rose sharply on the other side of the Fax Waters, he thought of his plans to improve its defences. He knew, however, that such modifications were beyond him and the men of the village, and that he would have to travel at least as far as Fax to find someone with such skills.
He heard a shout from the village, and rested on his shovel as a figure made its way slowly towards him, on horseback. Aranon squinted as he looked into the sun to pick out the features of the rider, and as he recognised him the priest's wrinkled visage relaxed, and gently curved into a beaming smile.
"Hail, Tumbry!" he shouted as the bard slowed down then dismounted.
Casting his shovel aside they embraced as friends absent too long did. Tumbry pushed Aranon back, holding him at arm's length.
"Enough of this work, Aranon. To worship - your headman was telling me of the excellent brew served in your village inn."
Both men walked back to the village, into the sun, followed by the other villagers who had also decided to call it a day.

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Bermen and Eloi arrived late in the Edalsvell, and another delightful, and free, night was spent in the inn with Halykk.
Little had happened there, with the Bierkeepe nearing completion. The rumours of the attempt on the King's life had reached there, and Bermen and Eloi spent most of that night answering the rumour-filled questions of the villagers.

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As Jean-Paul walked to his room, he was aware of the time. It was just after ten bells and he had to hurry to get to the Shriven Oak on time. Gathering his weapons, he moved quickly and easily requisitioned a horse to ride into the village. He was intent to arrive early, check out the situation and be ready for this stranger.
As he entered the village, a large band of men rode in from the east, the rough track leading into the Axewood itself. Jean-Paul hid himself as they approached, and he saw that Wissig was at their fore. A tracker in front was checking prints on the track, and then looked at the Mareschal, shaking his head.
Wissig uttered a few curses, then seemed resigned, urging the men onward and they rode back toward the Palace. Jean-Paul lead the grey mare he had ridden back to the stable. He entered cautiously, then noticed the stranger was already there, hidden in the shadows.
"You are alone?" the stranger said. His voice carried authority, seemed calm and without aggression.
The knight nodded.
"I hope you will not need that weapon, Sir Pascal," the man said. "For I am your ally, although I do not know if you are mine."
Jean-Paul made to question him, but the man raised his hand to stop him. There was a noise to the left, a faint rustle in the hay, and Jean-Paul suddenly realised there were others in the stable with them.
"Do not be alarmed," the stranger continued. "We did not come here to be questioned, but to give you answers. You need not know who I am, it would only cause you grief."
You are a man of faith, and I will trust no other. Listen to what I say, and do not question its truth, for I tell no lies. You seek a traitor, I seek revenge. And redemption too, some would say.
I have been watching your Chamberlain, Lominstrall, and must tell you he wanders the Palace grounds in secret often. He meets in the dead of the night with two hooded folk, small like the Olvenfolk, quiet, unnatural. Two of my men tried to follow the secretive strangers, but they did not return. Lominstrall has now gone south on the road to Niole Dra, I know not where his friends are."
The stranger walked over towards the door, and Jean-Paul caught a glimpse of his face in the pale moonlight. He was a young man, about thirty years, and handsome in a rugged way. Above his left eye he sported a small scar along the length of his eyebrow. He walked as a soldier, and as the others from the stable, six more in all, passed him by with their crossbows pointed his way, he saw from their dress that they were soldiers one and all. As they left, the stranger stopped at the door.
"I tell you this to explain, good knight, not to elicit action. I will take care of Lominstrall myself, my own justice. Do not cross my path and we shall remain on good terms."
J-P acknowledges the strangers presence "May I assume that you are members of Redemption? The fact that you are does not matter to me, what does is your assurance that you are not implicated in the attempt on the kings life. May I understand from your last statement that you intend to go after Lominstrall to kill him?"
"I would ask you not to do this, but to help me bring this traitor to justice. There is more to this than meets the eye and it is very important that Lominstrall lives so that we may find out who his accomplices are."
"If you do not assist me and insist on pursuing your plan I cannot guarantee that I will not interfere. However, if you let me and my companions come with you and allow us to interrogate Lominstrall, we will not interfere with whatever fate you have planned for him."
He steps forward open armed.
"I know you have no loyalty to the king, but his rule is far better than that we could expect under the sovereignty of the horde! We must discover who his contacts are!"
He pauses awaiting a response from the stranger.
As Jean-Paul stepped forward, the stranger rose an arm from under his cloak, and he found himself staring at a hand-crossbow with bolt ready to fly at him.
"Do not overestimate your worth to me, paladin. I do not need your justice, Lominstrall will pay for his crime. If you wish to cross me then I will kill you right here, right now. I have done you the favour of enlightenment, ask no more of me."
Walking slowly backwards, the crossbow still pointing at Jean-Paul, the stranger walked from the stable, shutting the door behind him. Jean-Paul heard the stable door being bolted from outside and a few men's footprints walking briskly away.
It took him a couple of minutes in the dark, but the paladin soon found the side door which, to his relief was open. Heading out into the night he could hear several horses riding off nearby. When he went round to the front there was no sign of the stranger and his men. J-P swiftly returns to the Palace as stealthily as possible with a view
to awakening the others to advise them of his findings.

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Akhan was tired, but lay awake in anticipation for an hour before succumbing to sleep. Some time later he was awakened by the heat of someone lying in the bed next to him. As he tried to speak, Hanali placed her soft, warm hand over his open mouth, then replaced it with her lips...

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"I am sorry I could not come sooner," she said. "I was delayed entertaining his majesty with my husband."
Even though it was unlikely they could be heard, they both whispered, as though in deference to the secret nature of their liaisons. Akhan was awed by her beauty, viewed by the scant moonlight entering the room from without.
She asked of their investigations, and Akhan informed her they were no further forward.
Hanali paused, as though reluctant to tell Akhan something.
"The Count is worried," she finally said.
Akhan did not speak, eager to allow her to reveal only what she felt she could in comfort say.
Again she paused, before continuing, "I think he fears Lominstrall has some part in the recent events."
She turned away from Akhan.
"My husband has no love for Lominstrall, he is an overly ambitious person, especially for one of Olven blood. But he has begged a favour from him, an unusual request."
Seeming more relaxed, more resolved to be out with the truth, Hanali turned back to Akhan.
"As you know, my husband is lord over the Protectorate of Fim-Sular, on the Amedio coast. Lominstrall has asked for passage for two acquaintances to the settlement, on one of our ships. My husband has agreed, and they are to sail on our own ship, the Moonlight Rose, from Niole Dra in two days' time."
"This is not unusual, but he has also said he may need to go himself, and that there must be the utmost secrecy around this. Fim-Sular is no ordinary Keoish town, my love - it is full of the wolfsheads and outcasts from many societies, the unwanted and the most wanted who seek protection in the Amedio. I fear Lominstrall or his acquaintances do indeed have blood on their hands and treachery in their hearts."
"Do not worry yourself," Akhan said in a reassuring tone, stroking her long, soft hair. "I will be sure to look into this further."
Hanali nodded in agreement, and they fell asleep in each other's arms.

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When Mordekei returned to his room, Grymalkin was sleeping there. The pseudodragon awoke with a start as he sat on the bed, but soon relaxed a he realised who it was.
"Man walk much, talk much, see many men," the familiar told him.
"Talk to King, soldiers, Count, talk to nearly everyone. Man come late and talk to him, then man gather men on horses with sword and ride off - ride off too far, over to forest - Grym not follow much."
Mordekei nodded as Grym moved over to allow him into bed, and a good night's sleep.

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Jean-Paul ran from the stable into the village square, looking down the road, but could not see any sign of the stranger and his band.
Pausing only momentarily he started off toward the Palace when some figures emerged from nearby doorways and alleyways.
As the stranger stepped out into the street ten feet in front of him, Jean-Paul realised they had not left, but had been waiting to see what he did.
"You were right, Sergeant," the stranger said as he lifted his hand crossbow and took aim. "He cannot be trusted!"
The paladin lifted his arms as if to protect himself as the bolt flew at him, striking his arm at the shoulder joint of his armour, with only a small wound although the bolt embedded itself in his flesh. He reached for his sword, drawing it halfway out before the poison from the bolt took effect, and Jean-Paul's vision blurred as he fell to the ground.
As he fell into darkness, he heard someone say, "I warned you not to..."

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