The baron’s castle was a modest affair in comparison to the Marquis of Corrington’s. John supposed that was not surprising, given the relative size of the two kingdoms. Mithia was the largest of the Four Kingdoms while Darnos was the smallest. The halls were distinctly narrow, spartan, and grimy.

A man wearing old but well-kept armour led them to the castle’s main hall and cleared his throat. “Master Grimald and party here to see you, My Lord.”

Baron Fabian Barherst was the lord of Sinevy and an influential member of the Darnosian court. He was a stout man with a florid face. He looked up from the carcass of a chicken that he had been devouring and wiped his mouth with a filthy rag. A pair of guards stood behind him and John noticed that they lacked the identifying cloaks that seemed to be common in Corrington, and that they were armed with fairly basic looking spears. Daylight streamed in from the tall, narrow windows.

“And my errand?” he asked, with his mouth still full of food.

“It is resolved, my lord,” Grimald replied, bowing formally.

“Excellent, what was the problem?” Baron Fabian asked.

“It appears that it was a doppelganger,” Udoriol said, stepping forward with his hood pulled low over his head, “Which is cause for concern to me.”

A confused look crossed the baron’s face. “Doppelganger? What are they?”

“Shapeshifters, my lord,” Udoriol replied, “They can take on the appearance of anyone who approaches a mirror they inhabit.”

“This is my first time hearing of such things,” Baron Fabian scoffed. He turned to a wrinkled old man wearing a white linen skullcap who was in attendance nearby. “Robert, have you ever heard of such a thing?”

“Yes, My Lord, doppelgangers do exist and are as he says,” the baron’s Keeper of Knowledge replied.

Baron Fabian looked back at Udoriol and his eyes narrowed. “What do these doppelgangers do?”

“They typically work as assassins for hire, My Lord,” Udoriol replied evenly. What he didn’t say was that this one, like the vampire in Corrington, was more powerful than the ones he had encountered before. He’d shared his concerns with John and Grimald, and there was the nagging fear that they had not put an end to Ratri’s machinations.

The baron grunted and drank deeply from a cup of wine. When he was done, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and turned his attention back to Udoriol. “I suppose that’s not out of place in these times, what with two of the king’s heirs turning up dead.”

“But what was it doing in Bartrie?” Robert ventured, “I very much doubt there is anyone worth assassinating there.”

“The light of the sun is deadly to doppelgangers,” Udoriol replied, “Meaning they can only travel at night. It was probably making its way to Balstat.”

Baron Fabian grunted. “How does one even go about contracting these creatures?”

Udoriol shrugged. “Perhaps at a Temple to Ratri. They are servants of the Night Goddess, after all.”

The Baron arched an eyebrow and turned to Robert, who replied, “I can’t think of any temples in Darnos, My Lord. The Treton Church has been very efficient in eradicating them.”

“The Church has detected underground cells dedicated to the Night Goddess all throughout the Four Kingdoms, My Lord,” Udoriol warned, “they are like cockroaches and grow bolder and more powerful by the day.”

Udoriol paused before adding delicately, “Have you noticed any unusual activity amongst your own people, perhaps someone who only seems to be seen at night?”

Baron Fabian shook his head carefully before turning to Robert, who did the same.

“No one comes to mind, My Lord,” he said, “Though I am disturbed by the thought of a creature that is capable of mimicking anyone it wishes to.”

“This is something else we should bring to King Frederick’s attention,” the baron mused. He spread out his arms and a manservant dressed in rags put a cloak around his shoulders. “We can leave at once.”

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Udoriol, John and Grimald exchanged surprised looks. This suited them, but they certainly weren’t expecting it.

“Did you gentlemen prepare your own transport?” Baron Fabian ventured.

“Yes,” Grimald blurted. “Horses. We have horses.”

The baron gave him a curious look. “I hope you discover your wits before we meet with the King. Balstat is but a half day ride from here, so you won’t have much time.”

“Can we expect an audience with the king that soon?” Udoriol asked.

Baron Fabian shrugged. “I cannot speak for His Grace. These are trying times for him, as you might understand.”

The baron paused and eyed Grimald before adding, “Have you heard any word from the good Marquis of Corrington of when the Army of the Four Kingdoms might be disbanded?”

The dwarf shook his head. “I’m afraid they are still restoring order to the Southward Expansion, as far as I know.”

The baron’s heavy jowls shook as he scowled. “King Frederick overcommitted with the number of troops Darnos sent, and now we are all paying for it.”

Grimald licked his lips but remained silent as the baron muttered to himself. Robert cleared his throat and nudged the baron in the elbow, reminding him that his guests were still present. He blinked. “Ah, yes, we’re leaving for Balstat. You are dismissed, please make the necessary arrangements, and meet me at the main gate in an hour.”

Robert cleared his throat again.

“An hour and a half,” the baron corrected himself.

“My Lord,” John and Udoriol followed Grimald’s lead and bowed low before a soldier led them away from the hall.

He brought them to a stable that held stalls of tired, underfed horses before excusing himself. John looked around. There was just a pile of half rotted hay in one of the stalls and the three stable hands were busy chatting amongst themselves in a corner.

“Make preparations, he says,” John remarked dryly.

“Well, we have an hour and a half to kill,” Grimald said, looking out at the castle’s open main gate which led to the town beyond, “Why don’t we go explore?”

John gave the dwarf a dubious look. “I didn’t see much worth exploring on the way in…”

“Well, you can stay here and smell horseshit if you like,” Grimald remarked, “But I’m going to explore, what about you, Udoriol?”

“I think I’ll come with you,” the elf said as he crinkled his nose.

“Fine, I’ll come as well,” John sighed.

“Oi, what do you think you’re doing?” one of the stable hands called out as they unhitched their horses.

“We’re taking our horses,” Grimald replied bluntly.

“How do you know they’re yours?” the man demanded. He was an elderly man who walked with a pronounced limp as he stood in the stable’s doorway, blocking their exit.

“You saw us bring them in and laughed as we stabled them ourselves,” John reminded him.

“I don’t recall any of that,” the man said obstinately and turned to his companions who nodded in agreement with amused looks on their faces.

“Need I remind you that we are guests of your lord?” Grimald offered diplomatically.

The man shrugged. “I wouldn’t know about any of that. I’m responsible for the horses here, see? And I can’t have strangers taking them out as they like.”

John looked at their three horses that were well fed and groomed, in stark contrast to the other horses in the stable and sighed. He knew what they were doing and Grimald probably did as well. Something in his mind nagged him. No, they were doing this the wrong way. Why not have their horses go missing while they were meeting the baron if money was what they were after? Horses would be worth far more than whatever coin they were carrying.

“I suppose some money might make you look the other way?” the dwarf stated flatly.

The stable hand’s grin broadened, but John stepped forward, blocking the dwarf off. “Wait,” he said as he drew his dagger. This could well be a simple shakedown, but they would lose little by being a little forceful.

“We don’t want a fight,” Grimald warned.

“Why not?” John countered, “we slit their throats now, hide their bodies, and in an hour and a half, we’ll be on our way. It’s not like we’re ever going to come back here.”

Grimald sighed. “Look, I don’t want to get our little jaunt in Darnos off on the wrong foot.”

“I’d say it’s too late for that,” John pointed out. “Besides, whether or not things here descend into violence depends on them.”

He then turned to the stable hand. “Why are you shaking us down?”

“Look around,” the man stammered as he backed away with his hands raised, “This is a poor kingdom, we don’t earn much. When rich outsiders come around, why not try to earn a little something?”

“You could have taken our horses while we were away,” John pressed as he continued to advance menacingly.

The man’s eyes widened, and John knew there was more going on than a simple shakedown. “Udoriol, a ring of truth, please.”

“Why, laddie?” Grimald asked. The elf complied, and soon, a circle of light shimmered around them.

The man tried to back out of it but found himself trapped. John darted forward and had his dagger at the man’s throat before he could react.

“What’s going on here? What are they planning to do with us?” John demanded. His voice was low and dangerous.

The man’s face went white, and his companions were rooted to the spot in terror. John found a perverse pleasure in this, as though it paid in some measure for his frustration at Sarah’s departure.

“Speak!” John ordered as he applied pressure to the blade at the man’s throat, drawing blood.

“You’re going too far, boy!” Grimald barked.

The stable hand quailed and blurted, “They were going to kill you and take your horses, but they wouldn’t miss a few coins, how could they?”

“Who?” John demanded as his pleasure was replaced with fear.

“The baron!” the man cried.

“Why?” Udoriol demanded.

Before he could answer, an arrow pierced his throat.

“Get to the horses!” John shouted and dove into cover as more arrows thudded into the wall close to him.