'Not all,” Erik said, pointing to an approaching figure, a white-haired man dressed in flowing crimson robes. “We've got company.'
Shakkar saw a broad grin on the old man's face.
'At least it looks like someone's pleased to see us, Lord Seneschal,” Erik muttered
Shakkar grunted, “Or he knows something we do not.'
'Greetings, travellers!” the old man cried. “We do not have many visitors to our fair city, and it is my pleasure to welcome you to Brianston.
'My, you're a size, aren't you?” he said, eyeing up Shakkar.
'I am Shakkar, a being from the nether regions, mortal,” the demon rumbled. “I bid you greetings, likewise. This is my companion, Sergeant Erik.'
'Shakkar, Sergeant Erik, I bid you most welcome. I am Revenant Murar, an elder of this city, and its traditional Guide and Protector. May I ask what brings you to Brianston?'
'We seek information concerning a party which may have passed through here recently, Revenant Murar.” Shakkar kept his tone civil. “A party of four warriors and three Guild Mages. The smallest warrior is of the elven race, and the eldest may be wearing a green uniform similar to that of Sergeant Erik. Do you know anything of them?'
Murar rubbed his white beard, his brow furrowed. After a few moments, he shook his head. “Three Guild Mages!” he said, whistling. “I'm sure I would have remembered such a notable party, Shakkar, and I make it a point to greet all our visitors. No, I'm sorry to tell you that your friends have not passed through here.'
'Perhaps somebody else may have seen them passing through,” the Seneschal suggested, “while you were otherwise engaged. Perhaps we might consult a few of the other citizens?'
'Impossible, I'm afraid, Lord Shakkar.” The Revenant's expression suggested the deepest sorrow and anguish. “We are in the middle of our five-yearly ‘Festival of Life'. It is a religious celebration, which is closed to non- citizens. In any case, even when I am unable to greet a party of travellers in person, another Revenant will inform me of all movements through the city. Visitors rarely pass through here, as I told you.
'Still, you are free to roam through Brianston as you will, but please take care not to disturb the revelries in the town square. If you require rooms for the night, I can direct you to suitable lodgings on the edge of town. We maintain a skeleton staff in one of the hostelries, even in mid-Festival.'
'Why do you keep on staff for visitors who never come?” Erik asked.
Murar shrugged. “It is an old tradition, kept over from the days when Brianston was a major centre of trade, Sergeant. We are a thoughtful folk, and we do not abandon our customs lightly.'
'May we wait until the Festival of Life has finished?” Shakkar asked. “Perhaps someone was remiss in their duties, and he or she forgot to inform you.'
The old man spread his arms, his palms uppermost. “That would be most irregular. If such slackness should come to my attention, you may be sure that the culprit would be severely punished.
'The Festival will last another month, I'm afraid,” he added, retaining his cheerful smile. “Still, as I said, you are free of our town, except for the central area. If you wish to tarry in Brianston, you are more than welcome, subject to that single caveat.'
The demon's tail thrashed in uncertainty; Murar appeared helpful and open, and Shakkar had no reason to doubt his words. He felt cold, unfamiliar tendrils of confusion multiplying within him: if he could not obtain news of Grimm's passage through this apparently central town, his search might prove fruitless.
'Thank you for your time, Revenant Murar,” Erik said, filling an uncomfortable silence. “You've been most helpful, and you may be sure that we will respect your customs to the full. We're both tired and hungry after a long journey, so if you'll be as kind as to direct us to this inn, we'll be on our way. I'm sure things will be a lot clearer after a peaceful night's sleep and a good meal.'
'An excellent suggestion, Sergeant Erik,” the Revenant crowed. “Just follow this side road to the east for thirty minutes or so, and turn left at the fork in the road. The ‘Wanderer's Rest’ is quarter of a mile from there, on your right. You can't miss it.
'Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a central role to play in our festivities.'
Erik smiled. “Of course, Revenant Murar! Ah… by the way, who should we contact if we have further questions?'
'I'm sure the staff at the ‘Wanderer's Rest’ will be able to aid you in any enquiries concerning our fine city,” the old man replied. “Otherwise, the town centre is ringed by other Revenants at all critical intersections. They are forbidden to admit any outsider to pass during Festival, but I am sure they'll be more than happy to provide you with any information you may require.'
'Thank you for your time, Revenant Murar. Shall we leave, Lord Seneschal?'
'What? You want to eat at a time like this?” Shakkar demanded, frowning as Murar walked away.
'Well, I must admit that I am getting sick of these dried rations,” Erik muttered. “But that isn't the main reason: I just wanted to get Murar out of the way. I don't trust him.'
Shakkar felt nonplussed. Murar had seemed a decent sort for a human, and the demon had noted nothing suspect in his behaviour. However, he had to acknowledge that he was a mere tyro in the assessment of mortals, whose ways were often beyond him.
He waited until Murar was out of sight before speaking: “What are your suspicions, Sergeant?'
'Nobody's that happy for so long, Lord Seneschal. And did you see the way he swallowed and blinked when you mentioned Lord Grimm's party, just before he went into his wide-eyed, puzzled act?'
Shakkar shook his head. He had noticed nothing strange about the old man's demeanour at any time.
'Why, then, did you let Murar go, if you suspected deception?'
'I don't know for sure, Lord Seneschal, but I'd be willing to bet a week's wages he knows more than he's letting on. More than that; look at Brianston's location.'
The soldier unfolded his map and indicated the city with his right index finger.
'He says they don't get many visitors here: how probable is that? Roads run between here and several moderate-sized towns. I just can't believe that nobody ever travels them. Most of the roads around Brianston are little more than scrubby dirt roads, full of rocks and ruts. Would you travel around it in a wagon, when these splendid, graded streets are available?'
Shakkar frowned. “Your reasoning appears sound, human, so I reiterate: why did you not detain Murar or press him further?'
'I just want to be sure, Lord Seneschal. I don't want to beat up a helpless old man just because of suspicions. I just want to scout out Baron Grimm's probable route, in the hope of finding some clue-
The soldier appeared to spasm as his face contorted. “Ugh, there's a rat on me!” he said, shaking his uniform jacket. “I hate bloody rats!'
Shakkar looked down to see the tiny, grey shape of Thribble sprawling in the dirt.
'That is no rat,” he growled. “Can you not see? It is Baron Grimm's companion, Thribble! That proves that the Baron was here!
'Hail, brother demon!'
Thribble shook the dust of the road from his minuscule body. “Greetings, Shakkar! And for your information, human, I do not take kindly to being compared with your overworld vermin!'
Erik shrugged “I'm sorry, Master Thribble. I just thought you-'
'Never mind that,” Shakkar interrupted, scooping the tiny creature into the palm of his shovel-sized, clawed right hand. He looked down into Thribble's dot-like eyes with concern. “Where is Baron Grimm, Thribble?'
'This is a strange town, Shakkar. Most of the buildings here are bizarre fantasies given form by the dreams of some creature the citizens of Brianston call ‘Uncle Gruon'. Most of the inhabitants seem also to be his mental constructs. From what I can tell, they need to keep this Gruon asleep by engorging him with the blood of living mortals. Lord Grimm and his fellow mortals are being kept for this purpose in a large stone building in the centre of the town. This Festival is in honour of the new guests; I gather that they will satisfy Gruon's appetite for many years, and keep the people of Brianston alive.'
'Thank you, Thribble,” Shakkar growled, his animal hind-brain driving him to action. “Direct us to this building and I shall tear it apart. Sergeant Erik, you may use your Technological weapons to keep the crowd at bay while I concentrate on freeing Lord Grimm and his companions.'
'With pleasure, Lord Seneschal!” Erik swung his firearm's strap from his shoulder and flipped a small lever on
