Digging into a plate of hot sausages and a tall mug of ale, Nayantara was a most welcome guest of the innkeeper and his wife, for the sudden and heavy taxation from the Lord Mayor had caused Coronton’s economy to stagnate, so before she had arrived a customer had not set foot in that place for a fortnight. She, in the meantime, ate with gusto out of both hunger and necessity, but also to stifle the anxious feeling that had begun churning in her gut ever since she had allowed the Count to enter into the Castle unattended what was now over two days ago.

She watched with a grimace as the remaining sunlight of the third day dimmed and drew back behind the distant western mountains. Her heart panged once more with a sudden, intense worry, which she quickly did her best to suppress with another hearty mouthful of ale.

Meanwhile, as the lone Huntress ate in the center of the otherwise empty hall, a quiet knock rang upon the door. With nothing else to occupy his time with, the Innkeeper walked around his makeshift bar counter and over to the door to peer tentatively outside. He half expected to be met with the sneering visage of one of the Mayor’s men, come for another round of extortion, but instead what he found was a strange fellow wrapped in a hooded gray cloak. At this time of day a stranger wearing such a garb as this would have looked quite intimidating, if not for this particular wearer’s diminutive stature.

Nayantara could not help but perk up as she looked over towards where the innkeeper stood at the door, for he whispered something to whoever was outside and nodded a bit, peeking back over his shoulder at where she sat several times during his hushed conversation. She did not halt her feast, but she significantly slowed the pace of her bites as she stared back at him, well-distracted by the intrigue.

Finally, the Innkeeper bade the stranger a goodnight and the door clicked shut once again. He stood still for a moment to scratch quizzically at his head before he turned and made his way over to Nayantara’s table, clutching a small yellow parchment between two fingers.

“I suppose I have a message for you, ma’am.” He said, still sounding a bit befuddled even as he handed the small parcel to her.

She promptly flicked the thing open with her wrist as she took another swig of her ale. Its contents were sparse and had clearly been hastily scribbled with a bit of charcoal, which had smudged considerably during the folding and transportation of the message. She set her mug aside and leaned in closer so that she could study its text more intimately.

I am in no rush. Do not bother to come find me.

The mushrooms are beautiful this time of year.

-N

She read the note over again several times, to be sure her understanding of the characters was correct and she had not missed anything. Then she leaned back against her chair, breathed out an exasperated sigh and tousled her hair.

“What to do… What to do?” She murmured, before she narrowed her eyes and suddenly pushed her chair back as she shot straight to her feet!

A handful of silver coins clattered down upon the table, the noise causing the preoccupied Innkeeper to startle. “I may have to leave a bit earlier than scheduled.” The woman said to him. “So I’ll pay you upfront for the room and service, just in case.”

He stared down at the small pile of shiny silver coins, which would have been more than enough to pay for a month’s stay in one of his rooms, and was an unthinkable amount to put down for just a few days and a meal! But by the time he had managed to recover his wits and direct his attention back towards his guest, she was already jogging out of the front door and into the night, with her scabbarded sword clutched in her hand!

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Having just arrived at the door which stood before the office of the Countess, Lady Merida took a deep, steadying breath before she lifted her fist and knocked the middle knuckles of her hand upon the polished wood. Ser Gregory respectfully held his hand before her, stepping forward to knock upon the door himself, as if by acting in her stead he was averting some kind of danger to her person.

“Come… in.” Came a muffled, halting voice from inside, which was not so much quieter because it was heard through the wood and stone of the walls, but because something solid rested over the speaker’s mouth.

Unnoticed by them both, on the other side of the door Uldred cleared her throat as silently she could manage, for she had not spoken all morning and her voice had initially come out deeper and much more menacing than she had intended.

Lady Merida and Ser Gregory shared an uncertain look between each other, the two of them slightly rattled by the menacing voice that had beckoned them inside, but the Mayor recovered herself quickly. Putting on a stoic face, she marched through the door which Gregory diligently opened before her.

“Th-the Lady Mayor Merida from Stoppridge!” Stammered out Ser Gregory to announce her, though he was obviously cowed a bit by the dark and intimidating presence of the Countess, who was huge even compared to himself. Lady Merida dipped in a small but proper curtsy, and Uldred swiftly rose and swept around her desk, then dropped to one knee–much like a man would have–and knelt so that she could press the silver lips of her mask against the other woman’s finger. Lady Merida felt a shivery surge of goosebumps climb all the way up her outstretched arm to the back of her neck, but fought to maintain her uncaring visage despite her body’s visceral reaction. Uldred rose back up to a standing position just as quickly as she had knelt, and behind her inscrutable silver mask her violet eyes turned towards Ser Gregory, as his hand had instinctively slipped to the hilt of the greatsword on his back as he noticed the discomfort of his Lady. As the Countess’ gaze focused upon him he realized his mistake, and quickly removed his hand from the hilt and placed it on the back of his neck, awkwardly avoiding her eyes as he pretended his motion earlier had been an attempt to scratch an itch there.

“Ahem! Ser Gregory? Thank you for seeing me here. Now, please leave us.” The Mayor pointedly requested then, and Ser Gregory bowed respectfully to them both before promptly turning on his heels to leave, audibly exhaling in relief as the door once again clicked shut behind him.

“Lady Merida. It is a privilege and an honor to once again welcome you into the House of Petrice.” Uldred recited in the exact way her father had drilled into her as an adolescent.

Her Noble guest could not help but scoff as she heard those words, taking Uldred quite aback for a moment as she wondered if she had done something wrong, though she did not outwardly show any sign of this disturbance. Lady Merida then went on to reply, in a dry sort of tone, “I am quite certain your Father would not have agreed with that sentiment, had he been alive today.”

Uldred grimaced a little behind the cover of her mask as she recalled her own bittersweet feelings towards her late father–the man had been proud and brash, stubborn and strong. She pulled herself back out of her memories to respond. “...You may be correct in that, but any animosity this Castle held for you passed along with him. I prefer to consider you a… valuable ally.”

Lady Merida narrowed her eyes at that. Choosing your words carefully, are we? Good. It seems that if nothing else, your father taught you well.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The Mayor wore a small inscrutable grin, like one you would see on the face of a person in a portrait. “That is most pleasing to hear, Countess. While I and the people of Stoppridge were… troubled to hear of the Count’s recent movements, we would like you to know that in this Moot we are on your side, and will follow with whatever plan of action you advise. Of course, only as long as it does not go against our own interests.”

Uldred was silent for a long moment, staring unblinkingly down at the Lady Mayor in a way that unnerved her a bit behind her cold façade. Then the larger woman turned and swept back across the room to fall back onto the large–and likely reinforced–chair that had used to belong to her Father, which creaked in protest beneath her weight.

“I hope you enjoy your stay here, my Lady. We have recently been furnished with a variety of edible goods. Feel free to let one of our two Castle servants know if you are feeling peckish or have any particular requests.” The Countess said, again with the air of someone reading a pre-prepared speech off a slip of paper.

Lady Merida then made her way back towards the door, where she briefly paused to curtsy once more, just as it was reopened by the hand of the attentive Ser Gregory, who had been listening for her approaching footsteps. “My most gracious thanks, my Countess. I think that, with your permission, I might like to tour the grounds in which I spent my youth. Thank you for your time.” And with this cordial farewell she departed, leaving Uldred alone in her study once more.

A variety of edible goods? Two servants? Whatever has been happening here… Lady Merida wondered to herself as she marched away down the corridor.

Meanwhile, Uldred raised up one of her gloved hands and let it strike against the side of her head, repeating the motion many times over. “Stupid, stupid! Stupid girl!” She repeated like a mantra as she struck. “Can’t even perform a simple greeting correctly!”

As she recalled the suspicious and distrustful gaze of her aunt, Uldred’s posture sank along with her mood and she practically drooped over her desk, feeling quite melancholy. Her face buried safely in the hollow between her crossed arms, she he sniffled a bit–but this was surely only due to the effects of the chill morning air.

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Atop his plush bed, Niklas sprang up from his nap at the sound of jingling keys wrestling with the lock on his door. After what sounded like a bit of panicked effort and cursing, Alvin finally found the correct key and the door swung open, allowing light to pour across the gleaming contents of that dark space from the corridor outside.

“Come on!” Alvin hissed at him, his face pale and sweaty with nervousness.

In another moment the Count was on his feet and the two small men quickly emerged out into the hallway. Niklas looked about in every direction for any oncoming guards, and while he saw nothing, the scattered sound of shouting and running footsteps could be heard from every direction.

“What is going on?” Niklas asked, his body tense and his senses alert.

Alvin shook his head. “I dunno! Maybe… maybe they discovered I stole the keys?”

Niklas grimaced at that. “Then we’d better hurry. You know the way out, yes?”

“Aye, sir–my Lord! I’ve lived here all my life. This way!”

Together the two scampered through the halls as quiet as mice, terrified that at every corner they might turn to find a group of swarthy thugs coming straight for them… But, thankfully, their worries were always for naught, for the corridors they used were all quite deserted.

If they were really looking for us, surely they would be patrolling the halls around my room…? Niklas pondered suspiciously, his brow furrowed.

“...Did you deliver my note?” He asked Alvin in a panting whisper as they ran.

“I did, sir! I don’t… I still think you should have just written her a normal message.”

“Good man!” Niklas replied, his expression lightening slightly at this news. “And you needn’t worry, it’s like a code, a sentence with hidden meaning. She’ll understand it for certain.”

“...If you say so, my Lord.” came the lad’s skeptical response, which Niklas graciously ignored.

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance we could retrieve my Seal from the Mayor’s quarters?” Niklas asked.

But Alvin merely shook his head solemnly. “I’m afraid it would be impossible for us, milord. His rooms and office are at the top of the castle, and he appears to keep it on his person at all times.”

Likely because he’s busy using the thing to sign off on all kinds of outlandish laws and changes using my name! Niklas thought at that, gritting his teeth.

The shouting was growing louder now as they ran, coming from up ahead of them. Niklas looked anxiously over at Alvin, but he did not speak his worry aloud. If the front entrance was their only means of escape, then of course a large number of guards would be stationed there waiting for them to come through. All Niklas could hope was that there would be some opening that the two could capitalize on to escape! Together they reached the end of this final corridor, which suddenly became familiar to Niklas as they passed through it. The paintings and portraits adorning the walls were the ones he had passed upon his initial entry to the castle, and they also ran past a set of double-doors which he recognized as leading into that large and opulent dining hall where he had met Lord Borney.

As they rushed out onto the second-story bannister which looked down upon the entrance lobby, Niklas witnessed a sight below which was both exhilarating and relieving to him, and his face could not help but burst out into a wide grin. Several limp bodies were already strewn across the fine carpets or slumped against the walls. Meanwhile, a lone soul stood before a large group of thugs, clutching in her hand a large sword with a distinct and wavy blade.

“Nayantara!” He called out with delight, causing the Hunter and the men surrounding her to look up at him with alarm.

“My Lord!” She replied, reaching into her belt and retrieving a familiar–if rather crumpled–little note, which she waved in his direction. “What the devil does any of this mean?”

Even in a situation such as this, Alvin had to cough and clear his throat to stifle the giggle which threatened to bubble up from his gut.

“It was a code!” cried Niklas, sounding quite crestfallen. “It was supposed to–”

But he was cut off then by a shout coming from one of the guards below. “--The Count is free! Somebody grab him, quick!”

One of the larger and more imposing men thrust a short spear about as he barked out commands to the others. “You lot, hold her back! Anybody at the back, go an’ grab those runts, or the Mayor will have our asses!”

Just as he had directed, while one group doubled down on accosting Nayantara all at once, another line of thick-necked goons in ragged tabards came clambering up the stairs towards the balcony that held Alvin and Niklas. The timid servant froze like a rabbit at the sight of their approach, but the agile little Count raced, perhaps spurred to action by his Noble and Chivalric blood. Reaching out a spindly pair of arms, Niklas grasped upon the tasset of a heavy, decorative set of armor–one of the many which lined the room–and with a strength born of adrenaline he pulled the thing from its riggings and sent it clattering down upon the oncoming men, who all were sent rolling and tumbling back to the first floor!

“Blighted idiots!” Cursed the head guard. “Fine, I’ll get him myself!”

With shocking speed the large man was already halfway up the stair, where Alvin was still quite frozen in fright! A large hand caught the servant lad by his scruff, and its mate reached out for Niklas, but in that moment of desperation, Niklas put a foot up upon the railing and leapt bodily from it! He soared over the thugs assembled below, who stared up at him in shock–and not a little awe–as he sailed into the open and waiting arms of Nayantara, who then immediately turned and dashed towards the open doors!

And as Niklas stared back dejectedly towards the captured form of Alvin, the servant reached out a finger and pointed after him, shouting a fervent, “Go!” just before another large and calloused hand covered his mouth!