'I swear in the name of the One God that I shall never repeat what you tell me,” Shandimar intoned, raising his right hand in affirmation.
'I swear on the grave of my mother that I won't say a thing, Lord Seneschal,” Erik said, his face solemn.
Shakkar cleared his throat. “Lord Grimm and the Lady Drexelica are… very good friends,” he muttered.
Erik frowned. “Is that all? Then why did the Lord Baron…'
'The Guild does not approve of such relationships,” the Seneschal snapped. “It would be the worse for our Baron if such news were to become common knowledge.'
'Then this might not be a mistake,” the Colonel said. “This rogue mage may be striking directly at Lord Grimm.'
'Perhaps not a mage, Colonel,” Shakkar said. “Perhaps this is an act of Geomancy: witch magic.'
Shandimar shrugged. “I have met many witches in my time, Lord Seneschal, all honest, decent women as far as I can tell. In addition to their good characters, none of them could hope to compare to a Guild Mage in terms of power. What kind of witch could or would do such a thing?'
'A very powerful and evil one, Colonel.” Shakkar felt suspicion coalescing into a solid lump of certainty inside him. “I suspect her name is Prioress Lizaveta, and Lord Grimm is on his way to her demesnes as we speak. Lady Drexelica, no doubt, has been taken as some kind of hostage; we must warn the Baron somehow.'
Shandimar's expression hardened. “Do you know this witch-Prioress’ whereabouts, Lord Seneschal?'
'No, Colonel. I know only the party's first port of call: they were to seek out information as to the Prioress’ whereabouts in the town of Yoren.'
'Yoren!” The Sergeant's eyes bulged. “Sorry, Sir,” he said in a hurry, with an apologetic glance at the Colonel.
'That's all right, Sergeant. You may speak freely for the rest of this meeting. And forget the ‘Sir’ for the moment.'
'Yes, Sir…” Erik trailed off for a moment but then carried on. “Yoren's a very rough town, and no mistake. I can't say I know it well, but do I know the region. It's a pretty wild and lawless part of the world, but Yoren has a particular reputation for nastiness even there.'
'Where might they go from there?” Shandimar asked him.
Erik scratched his head again. “Anyor, Lufeth, Brianston… the list's endless. They could be anywhere now. You'd need a seer or a mage to find them.'
'We could try to find out just where this witch's Priory is, Sergeant. Cut out the towns in between.'
Shakkar shook his head. “No, Colonel. General Quelgrum sent out parties of runners to try to find out before he left with Lord Grimm, all to no avail. I suggest that the Sergeant's proposal is our best option.'
'What proposal?” Erik asked.
'Your proposal to find a seer or a mage to locate the party, Sergeant,” Shakkar said. “I suggest we try to find help at Baron Grimm's Guild House, in Arnor.'
The Colonel looked bemused. “I wasn't briefed on much about the Baron's Quest, Lord Seneschal, but I was given to understand that Arnor House was to learn nothing about it.'
'We do not go to the front door and ask for help from the Prelate, idiot!” Shakkar, aware of his growing anger at what he perceived as the obtuseness of these humans, fought to bring his rising ire under some control.
He continued in a softer voice, “I apologise for that, gentlemen. Grimm has a friend there; a Questor Dalquist, whom I have met in person. If we were to get word to him, I am sure he would use all his powers to help his brother Questor.'
'Is this Dalquist a Seer?” Shandimar asked.
'No, Colonel; but Questors can cast many kinds of spells. He is resourceful and might find a way.'
'Well, I can't go,” the Colonel declared. “My sworn duty is to safeguard the people of Crar.'
'Well, you do not seem to be doing a very good job of that, do you, Colonel?'
Shakkar knew he had let his stem-brain take control of him once more as the words escaped his mouth. This time, it cost him considerable effort to slake his hot ire.
'I am… sorry, Colonel,” he said in a gruff voice. “That was… unkind of me.'
'Think nothing of it, Lord Seneschal.” The officer's expression suggested that he was anything but mollified by the demon's outburst. “What, may I ask, do you intend?'
'I will go to Arnor House with Sergeant Erik. I will wait at a safe distance while the Sergeant, dressed as a labourer, reports to the tradesmen's entrance. As I understand it, the Mage Doorkeeper should come to greet him. I have not met the man, but Lord Grimm speaks fondly of him. I am sure that this man, Doorkeeper, can be relied upon to pass on a message to Questor Dalquist without revealing our purpose. We will wait for the mage to tell us whatever he can and then use the most expedient method to reach Questor Grimm and his party.'
Shandimar nodded slowly. At last, he said, “Very well, Lord Seneschal. Sergeant Erik, consider yourself on detached duty. I'll give you a chit for the Armoury. Take whatever weapons you feel you need, as long as they don't slow you down. And get some civilian clothes from the stores.'
The Sergeant saluted smartly.'Yes, Sir!” The grin on his face suggested he was far from downcast.
The Colonel turned to the demon. “When were you thinking of leaving, Lord Seneschal?'
Shakkar grinned, exposing his long fangs. “To borrow a human expression, Colonel, ‘there is no time like the present'. We will leave at once.'
'Don't I even have time to take breakfast?” Erik said in a slightly plaintive voice.
'Very well,” Shakkar growled. “I give you an hour to make your preparations; then, we leave.'
The Sergeant stood, came to attention and saluted. “With your permission, Sir?'
'Yes, yes, Sergeant,” the officer replied. “Do get on with it.'
'Yes, Sir!'
The soldier marched out of the room with a military precision that impressed even the irascible demon.
'I see I may have misjudged the man,” Shakkar said as the door slammed shut. “He seems to be a good soldier.'
'You may not believe it, Lord Seneschal, but they're all good soldiers, and until recently they have lived exclusively in a military base, free from all temptation. Guarding a town and pussy-footing around civilians is not an ideal assignment for such soldiers; they're men of action, first and foremost. You can rely on Sergeant Erik. Don't worry; he'll support you all the way.'
'It is not that which causes me to worry,” Shakkar said. “I just hope that this witch is not mistreating Lady Drexelica. I have come to… to respect her.'
Shandimar laughed. “It's bad policy to mistreat hostages. I'm sure she'll be all right, you'll see.'
Lizaveta regarded Sister Melana with some amusement. The nun's thin face was haggard and grey; she looked exhausted. Nonetheless, her habit seemed immaculate and faultless, even at this late hour.
How does the little tart still manage to stay upright? she wondered. I've been running her to the bone! Still, in a few more days we'll see a new Melana, I'm sure; a contrite and obedient one. I'll show her who runs this Priory!
'Do sit down, Sister,” she crooned, motioning to a comfortable chair opposite her divan. “You look shattered.'
'Thank you, Reverend Mother.” Melana collapsed into the chair with a distinct lack of Holy Modesty.
Lizaveta suppressed a smile. “I'm sorry that I have no sweetmeats or viands waiting for you; the hour is late, after all. How goes our new Supplicant?'
'She is wilful, Reverend Mother. She has power, but she seems to choose not to use it.'
'Are you sure, Sister? Is she resisting you wilfully, or is she just confused?'
'I don't know, Reverend Mother,” Melana confessed, rubbing her brow with a trembling hand as she sat slumped in the chair. “She makes all the right responses, and she obeys me without question now. She keeps proper custody of the eyes, and she keeps her robes in good order. I can tell she has power, and she has a witch's aura.'
'You mean, I imagine, Sister, that she has no aura.'
'Yes, Reverend Mother; I apologise. She lacks an aura, but she does not attempt to draw power from the
