Duke Alastair Braemar hurried down the stairs after leaving Beira’s room and made his way into his study, nodding to his advisor, Micah as he entered the room. He walked over to his desk and sitting down before pulling a piece of parchment out of one of the drawers. He grabbed pen and dipped it into the ink well, then began to write, quickly penning a letter. After several minutes of writing he stopped, placed his pen back into its holder and read over what he had wrote. Nodding to himself with satisfaction, he grabbed a pinch of drying powder and sprinkled it over the page before blowing the excess off. He pulled out an envelope and addressed it to ‘His Royal Majesty Malcolm Dunkeld’. Placing the letter into the envelope and using the candle on his desk, he sealed it, pressing his signet ring into the seal before the wax cooled.

  Walking over to his advisor’s desk, he handed the letter to Micah.

  “Micah, I need you to deliver this to the king as fast as you can. I’m going to be gone for a few days and am requesting that he sends some of his soldiers to the keep to assist with its protection while I gone.” The Duke said seriously.

  “Of course, Your Grace, I’ll see it done with all due haste.” Micah states as he accepts the letter with a formal bow that causes the bangs of his teal hair to fall slightly into his face.

  “Does Your Grace require an escort for your journey?” He asks, a frown creeping onto his face. “I can arrange for some of our best guardsmen to accompany you on your journey.”

  “Nay, they need to be here making sure that Beira is safe, that is what’s most important, plus I’ll move faster on my own. I’m requesting that solders be sent by the king in order to keep the lands outside of Lochavrai safe, but all of our guards will be needed to keep the keep and the surrounding city safe.” The Duke explained. “While I’m thinking about it, post two guards outside my daughter’s room with instructions to only let her personal maid and her mother in…” He paused. “And Dr. Tilson, who should be arriving shortly.”

  “It will be done, Your Grace.” Micah said stiffly as he bowed again.

  With that, Duke Braemar walked out of the office, briskly making his way down the hall and into the one of the reading rooms where the Dutchess sat, reading a book next to the fire place. After bending down to give her a kiss, he briefly laid out what Beira had told him and his plans for the next few days. Nodding thoughtfully, she places a hand softly on the Duke’s cheek before standing and embracing him in a warm hug.

  “Stay safe on the roads, my love.” She said after breaking the hug.

  “I will, Dear. Worry not.” He says kissing her on the lips. “At the first sign of danger, I’ll return. No sense in stirring up trouble until we know there is something worth stirring.”

  With that, he pats her reassuringly on the shoulder before turning and leaving the room. He made his way out of the main building of Braemar Keep, swiftly arriving at the stables where Jonah, the keep’s stable master, had a large chestnut stallion waiting, already tacked up and ready to go.

  “Thank you for getting Goliath ready to go on such short notice, Jonah.” Duke Braemar said with a smile, giving the horse a quick pat on the shoulder.

  “Anytime, Your Grace.” Jonah replied cheerily as he bowed to his lord. “Goliath was a bit frisky this morning, almost as if he knew you were going to be taking him out today.”

  “He knows when there is work to do.” The Duke said as he climbed into the saddle. Giving a cut nod of satisfaction the Jonah, Duke Braemar spurred Goliath into action, thundering toward the outer gate of the keep which opened as he approached. As soon as he cleared the gates, he took off as full speed, thundering down the road.

  ******************************************************************

  Micah sighed, looking down at the letter in his hand after the Duke left the room. Glancing at the clock on far wall, he silently calculated the time it would take him to get to the King’s castle and back, concluding that it would be well past dinner time before he could get back to the keep. Sighing again, he checked the number of coins in his coin purse.

  I should have enough to rent a room in Larkinshire for the night, and then I’ll finish the journey back in the morning. He thought, finally deciding on his best course of action.

  He looked at the stack of unfinished paperwork on his desk and groaned internally, knowing it will fall further behind because of this.

  He walked over to the large window that is behind the Duke’s desk and opened it before leaping out. As the winds caught him, he began to ascend. Looking back, Micah gave a quick flick of his wrist towards the open window and it slams shut, some of the papers on the Duke’s desk fluttering in the breeze.

  Turning and facing southward, Micah summoned a strong tailwind to carry himself up and over the walls of the keep and the surrounding city of Lochavrai. Southwards he sped over forests, passing swiftly over the town of Larkinshire, before hitting the great plains of Inverbreck, which stretched before him almost as far as the eye can see.

  In the distance, Micah spotted a large plateau rising from the plains, and headed that way, knowing that his destination sat upon it.

  As he drew closer, he could see a castle rising from the plateau, surrounded by the massive city of Aberling. Once he reached the outer walls of the city, he landed lightly in front of the large gate leading past the outer walls and into the city proper. Showing the seal on the letter to the guards, they provided him with a small black and white horse which he took with thanks and continued on his way into the city.

  It took him roughly an hour to navigate the streets and arrive at the front gate to the castle that the city was named after. Once again, presenting the seal on the letter gained him entrance. He dismounted from the horse and handed the reins to a young stable hand who then led the horse away while one of the guard captains came out of a nearby office, leading him into the castle and through a series of corridors to a sizable waiting room that was well furnished with a warm hearth that provided heat to the room.

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  A few minutes later, a tall, muscular, man with lightly salt and peppered brown hair and a full beard walked in. He was wearing a long sleaved white tunic with the royal crest embroidered above the left breast. His pants were an earthy brown cotton that was embroidered with golden thread along the seams. He wore black leather boots on his large feet and had a downright earthy feel to his presence while his light green eyes showed a weariness that comes from the weight of great responsibility.

  Micah, upon see the man walk into the room, stood and then dropped to one knee, head bowed.

  “Your Majesty!” He said, a bit louder than he intended.

  “Stand up, Micah. There isn’t anyone else around to see. I have had people kneeling to me all day and I grow tired of it.” The King said, tiredness creeping into his voice.

  The King reached out to offer a hand to assist Micah in standing back up which Micah accepted gratefully.

  “Ok, so what is so important that Alastair sent you with all due haste?” The King asked, arching an eyebrow.

  Micah held out the envelope which the King accepted. Opening it, the King read over the contents once, then a second time before walking to the lit hearth and tossing both the letter and envelope into the flames. He turned and walked to the door, opened it and said something softly to someone standing on the other side. When he finished, he closed the door once again, moved to a nearby chair and sat while motioning for Micah to sit as well.

  “I know time is short and you need to be heading back because of your duties,” the King began, “but could you tell me how Angus is doing? The fool boy hasn’t been sending in updates like he promised he would when him and my youngest daughter headed to the royal chateau in Larkinshire so that they could be closer to his betrothed while she was… ill.”

  “The prince and princess are both doing well to my knowledge, Your Majesty. They both visited the keep just this morning to see the Lady Beira now that she has awoken from her unnatural slumber. They stayed until just before lunch, with most of that time spent in the library with the young lady of the house.” Micah replied.

  “And how is my son’s fiancé doing? We had only received word that she was awake around noon.”

  “As far as a bill of health, Dr. Tilson has said that she is a perfect model of health as best as he can tell…” Micah trailed off momentarily before resuming. “The issue seems to be that the Lady Beira seems to have lost all of her memories and may potentially be blind permanently, though the good doctor thinks it will only be temporary for reasons he hasn’t divulged in my hearing. I do know that she has retained the ability to communicate and has no lasting effects over her muscular control, but beyond that, I haven’t heard yet.”

  “Hmmm,” the king said, clearly deep in thought. After a moment he stood up, preparing to leave. “Well, keep me updated through the usual channels on how she is doing, and do try to keep my two children from being too much of a nuisance to the young lady while she recovers.”

  “As you command, Your Majesty.” Micah replied, standing quickly before bowing deeply once again.

  By the time he straightened up, King Dunkeld has already left the room. After a few minutes had passed, the guard captain that led him from the front gate of the castle entered and led him back out to the stable to retrieve the horse he had arrived on.

  As he rode through the city, making his way back to the outer gate, he looked up at the darkening sky, realizing he was in the castle longer than anticipated.

  Looks like I’m going to have to stay in Aberling tonight. He thought to himself, sighing internally.

  Once he arrived at the Outer Gate, he handed the horse off to one of the guards with thanks and made his way to the nearby barracks. After speaking to the officer on duty, he is shown to a private room that is sparsely furnished, yet cozy all the same, and he settled in for the night, determined to begin the journey back at first light.

  ******************************************************************

  The second morning after Duke Braemar left the keep, he awoke early in a small but warm wooden room, before the sun had even crested the horizon. The room had no apparent windows or doors but wasn’t stifling, nor did it feel overly confining. With a wave of his hand, an opening appeared and he stepped out into the predawn light. Turning, he placed his right hand onto the great oak that had provided him shelter for the night and thanked it for its patience with his intrusion. The opening that he had stepped out of slowly closed with the room shrinking in size as the wood filled back in and the bark once again covered where the opening had been.

  Taking Goliath’s reins from the branch he had tethered them to, he led the large horse back to the road and checked the gear attached to the saddle to make sure everything he needed was still accounted for. On the right-hand side of the saddle, there was a scabbard housing a large claymore with a polished ironwood grip. The pommel and guard were both silver while the blade itself appeared to be made of obsidian with ironwood inlays down the center of the blade.

  Removing the sword and its scabbard from the saddle, Alastair strapped the large sword onto his back, held in place by a taunt leather thong with padding where the thong sat on his shoulder. He drew the large sword a few times to refamiliarize himself with the movement and was pleased to find that the muscle memory had not left him from the last time he had wielded the mighty blade.

  Climbing up onto Goliath’s back, he resumed his journey once more, traveling for a few hours before finally reaching the abandoned town of Hejlsberg, where the now dilapidated Thayne Estate sat. As he made his way along the main road through the town toward the estate, Alastair kept a wary eye on the dilapidated abandoned shops and houses, waiting for an ambush that did not come.

  As he approached the gateway that led into the estate, he noted that damage that had been done to the stone column that had once supported the left gate. The stone has been blown apart, taking with it a twisted twelve-foot segment of the wrought iron fence with it. The left half of the gate, still lay in a mangled heap where it had landed six years before when the damage had been done.

  It's such a shame that the ambitions of one man could lead this. The people of Hejlsberg deserved so much better than the destruction that Count Thayne brought down upon their town, He thought as he surveyed the damage. Oh well, better get this done and over with so that I can put plenty of distance between this place and myself before nightfall.

  He made his way up the long drive noting the large swath of mostly dead earth leading to the estate’s manor that still couldn’t support any life. Here and there were patches of weeds and brambles that had managed to take root, but they were sickly as if the earth itself were poison to them. Ahead, the drive split, circling around on itself with a large ornate fountain sitting in the middle. The statues that comprised the fountain head, were broken, their top halves laying in the fetid waters of its large basin. To the right was a half collapsed stable that Alastair guided Goliath to, before dismounting and wrapping the reins around a broken post in front. Sighing to himself, he patted the horse gently and spoke soothingly, assuring Goliath that he wouldn’t be here for long.

  Turning, he made his way to the large doors of the manor which were standing open, like a gapping maw, and made his way inside.