I woke with a ravenous hunger.

To my surprise it was Vera who knocked on my tent pole with a plate of sliced fruit and cheese.

I thanked her and ate before rising to change my clothes. A runner had brought me a few new sets earlier in the morning.

When I had asked him how I would pay for them, the man simply waved a hand.

“The Count’s son has already payed the Taylor. The clothes are yours to keep.”

I pulled the new dark tunic over my head, admiring the feel of the cloth. There was no doubt that the weave was of good quality and likely not cheap.

It seems I had fallen into good favor with the young Lord. I'd have to make it a habit.

I washed my face in a small basin outside the tent before picking my way across the encampment. The Kadian Army had taken up temporary residence on a rise over looking the plains.

Much of the tents and equipment had been destroyed in the attack, and men slept outside around cook fires, and makeshift beneath lean-tos.

The Lord Blackthorne himself had allocated his personal tent to those wounded in the battle.

He was sitting outside on a stump, surrounded by several well dressed Knights. They spoke to him in hushed and earnest tones as he dragged the whetstone methodically over his blade.

As if sensing my approach he lifted his head and our gazes met. The Knights around him fell suddenly silent and I could see the wariness in their eyes.

“My Lord,” I said, bowing at the waist.

Blackthorne set aside his whetstone and wiped his blade with a cloth.

“I hear you are in the habit of rescuing young Lords,” he said, his deep voice carrying the same resonance I had heard before.

“How is Lord Dacon?” I asked.

“He’ll live,” said Blackthorne. “His Healers tell me he will make a full recovery, though he lost a fair amount of blood. I believe he has you to thank for the fact that he survived at all.”

I shifted on my feet, uncomfortable. Blackthorne tracked the movement and the edge of his mouth quirked up.

“You are more modest than most.” He said.

“I am… cautious my Lord,” I said. “Modesty is simply a side effect.”

Blackthorne's boom of laughter was so unexpected that one of his Knights jumped. He tried to play off the movement as a shifting of his weight.

“Indeed,” said the Lord, amused.

“I will be frank Will of Blackbriar. You are no war veteran, but you have proved yourself a capable soldier and a quick wit. That is rare enough on the battlefield."

He lifted Dawnbringer and one of his squires rushes forward to take the sword.

“Kadia will need more men like you. Decisive men with the capability to lead others in the heat of battle. That is why I have decided to give you the opportunity to show your worth.”

He lifted a shield from where it had rested against the stump and held it out to me.

Carefully I stepped forward and took it from him. It was a heater shield made of wood and good steel. The straps were new, as was the fresh coat of paint on it’s front. It was painted half black and half read, and on it was the symbol of a rearing horse. The symbol of the house of Blackthorne.

“Will, join me as a man at arms in my service. I would name you Sergeant in exchange for your fealty. What say you?”

I ran a hand over the shield, admiring the craftsmanship. It was a generous opportunity, and one that would potentially allow me to curry favor and rise within the ranks.

It was also, I suspected, not an honor given to common foot soldiers this young in their career.

I could see the warring expressions on the faces of the Knights. Some looked doubtful, others downright hostile as they glared at me.

I didn’t doubt that Lord Blackthorne had chosen to promote me despite the council of many of them.

I bowed my head.

“I would be honored to serve my Lord,” I said carefully. “However, I hope you’ll forgive my hesitation. I’ve served with the men of the 3rd Auxiliary for only a short time, yet I’ve come to see many of them as friend, maybe even brothers. Therefore I ask that you consider bringing the 3rd as a whole under your banner.”

It was a big ask, and I saw the surprise in Blackthorne’s features.

For a moment he sat, pondering, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d offended him. At last he nodded.

“The 3rd has suffered some losses but I believe there are about fifty men still in it’s ranks. Serve me well, and I will consider your request. To take men into service is no trivial matter. It is a Lord responsibility to feed, cloth, and pay their troops. It would be a large expense, even for my household.”

I bowed at the waist.

“Thank you, Lord.”

Blackthorne nodded.

“Now, tell me your version of events. I’ve heard the story from several others, but I would hear you account as well. What transpired after you left the battlefield?"

I launched into the story of everything that had happened since we departed to search for the Count’s son. When I reached the part about the mutilated bodies, Blackthorne’s face darkened.

“Dark Arcane magic,” he said, lip curling. “There is no doubt in my mind, nor that of Dacon. He says that the entire cave was tainted with it it's stench. As was the beast that you encountered, I imagine."

“What does it mean?”

Lord Blackthorne rubbed at his temples with a hand.

“I am... unsure,” he admitted. “But the presence of dark magic and taint can often be correlated with the occult. These vile magics are performed only by proprietors who make deals with the patrons of hell.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Patrons of hell? A chill was creeping up my spine that had nothing to do with the breeze. If there was hell in this world then that must mean there were demons.

“Regardless,” said Lord Blackthorne, interrupting my flow of thoughts.

“This is now the jurisdiction of the inquisition. Against my wishes, the Crown has ordered a detachment from the nearest stronghold to investigate. They are due to arrive tonight.”

The evident distaste in his voice came as no surprise. My understanding of the Inquisition was that they preferred to be feared rather than to forge alliances. I remembered the bodies swinging from the tree, the letter carved into their foreheads.

“We had our own encounter with the Inquisition on our travels,” I confessed.

At Blackthorne’s gesture I explained what we had seen.

“This is a serious accusation,” said He said. “I will of course have to speak with Lord Dacon on this matter, as it was his land and his people that were effected. I urge you however to be careful around any members of the Inquisition you encounter. Not all Inquisitors are cruel, but without exception, every single one of them has the capacity to be dangerous. Don’t underestimate them.”

There was an undertone of warning in his voice that made me search his face, wondering just how much he might know or suspect. But as ever, the Lord’s expression was unreadable.

“My Lord, there is something that requires your attention.” Said one of his Knights. Blackthorne sighed.

“Isn’t there always?”

He rose from his stump and gave me an appraising look.

“Take the rest of the day to rest, Sergeant. I have a few men arriving from Havenhall that I want to place under your command.”

“The castle of my household,” he said in explanation to my blank look.

"I've sent for two of my finest soldier specialists. I'm sure you'll put them to good use."

I bowed.

“Understood, Lord.”

***

Several hours later and under the cover of night, I approached the spot where my friends waited.

“I can’t hear anything.” came Seth's urgent whisper.

“That’s because you’re listening on the wrong bloody side. The war tent is in that direction.” Kato gestured to a corner stacked high with crates and supply boxes.

Seth frowned.

“Tell me again why we’re risking being out past curfew to spy on a couple of Nobles?”

“You’re not.”

Kato and Seth both spun around, relaxing when they saw me emerging form the shadows.

“You’re supposed to be keeping watch for me. Though I’m starting to regret my choice of lookouts.”

“Oh our apologies your grace,” said Kato, bowing mockingly.

I grimaced. One promotion and the 3rd was already having a field day at my expense. I’d been saluted, bowed too, and even announced by a fake bugle upon my arrival to dinner.

Part of me worried I'd never live it down.

“Kato," I said. "If I ever get promoted again, which is wholly unlikely, my first act as an officer will be to promote you to Sergeant.”

He shuddered.

“Me an NCO? Diabolical.”

We were standing near the company supply depot, the nearest temporary structure in view of the War Tent.

I had seen the inquisition riding in to camp an hour ago. In truth, they had been impossible to miss. It hadn’t taken long for word to spread that Lord Blackthorne and the Inquisitor herself would be having a private audience.

The sudden imposition of a curfew only peaked my suspicion. And that of every other soldier in camp.

"If you want to ensure every man knows, make it a secret." Gills had said.

It was a risk slinking through the encampment to listen in. But the prospect of getting new information about potential threats we could face was too tempting.

What was more, I knew that the Inquistion posed a serious threat to my person, and I was inclined to know my enemy.

At any rate, we would need all the Intel we could get to survive what was to come. At least, that was the mood among the other soldiers.

“The Goblins nests may have been burned, and the survivors fled, but no one is in doubt that the war isn’t over.” Gills had said over dinner.

“There is something the Nobles aren’t telling us, and we need to know what.”

Kato and Seth waited until the pair of sentry’s doing the rounds passed our position. Then he nodded to me and I began to climb. Boxes creaked under my boots as I put my weight on them.

I managed to heave myself up onto of a long crate of standard armor piercing arrows and rise to my knees. Here I had a good view of the tent just over the temporary palisade wall.

The new wood had been cut recently and the smell of fresh birch wood suddenly reminded me of home. A memory of running through a field with a Labrador, laughing as she liked my face. Of hot summers and the sound of cicadas at night.

I blinked the thoughts away. It was getting harder and harder to recall details of my old world.

I wondered if eventually the memories would fade entirely.

“Lady Inquisitor.”

The voice of Lord Blackthorne drew me back to the present.

He was sitting in a carved black chair, his gloved fist propped beneath his chin. From my vantage, I could only see his head and shoulders through a gap in the fabric.

Through the entrance of the tent three figures dressed in black stepped into the lamp light. Two of them were men in black armor, their faces obscured by silver masks.

In front of them stood a woman. She was wearing fighting leathers, and I was surprised to see two ornate knives sheathed at either of her hips.

A closer inspection revealed them as Mythic Items. That was interesting. I tried to scan her stats, but to my surprise, the numbers themselves seem to blur and shift, making it impossible to read.

I had to exit my HUD to keep the my head from spinning. It was the first time I had ever been unable to read someones personal stats, and that alone had me unnerved.

What made my stomach drop however was the way her head tilted ever so slightly towards me, as if she had sensed me looking. That shouldn’t have been possible.. Should it?

“Hadrian,” the woman said, striding forward.

The familiarity of her response surprised me, until I saw I saw her brush a gloved hand across Lord Blackthorne’s chest. She lowered her mouth to his.

Blackthorne turned his head to the side, an angry muscle working in his jaw.

“Xandria,” said Blackthorne, his tone cold. “I was not aware you had been promoted to the role Inquisitor.”

The woman stepped back from him, flicking her long dark braid over one shoulder. Far from being embarrassed, she seemed amused by his reaction.

“I suppose we both have our roles to grow into,” she said. “I expect you read the missive my Darkblade delivered to you?”

“Of course.”

“And your answer?” Her tone was light and playful, but there was a sharpness underneath. Blackthorne seemed to recognize it too.

“There are far more suitable candidates for the position,” he said.

Xandria smirked.

“And yet the Crown Prince of Kadia has volunteered you to be the new Spear of the God King. An honor, no doubt.”

Lord Blackthorne grimaced.

“An honor,” he repeated, in a way that made me think he felt it was the exact opposite.

“Perhaps the Prince himself would care to grace us with his radiance. The troops could use the boost morale... and troops.”

At his words, the black armored soldiers behind her shifted. Xandria glanced at them, her lips quirking upwards at the corners.

“Careful,” the word was almost a hiss through her cherry red lips.

“You stray awfully close to blasphemy. And my Darkblades could not abide such a thing.”

Lord Blackthorne snorted.

“Your hounds don’t frighten me. Ask your questions and be gone. I grow weary of this conversation.”

Xandria examined her gloves, her expression flitting between amused and mocking.

“You know I can’t go. When the Crown Prince himself orders me to investigate, I have no choice but to obey.”

Lord Blackthorne made a sound in his throat much like a growl.

"Since when have you ever obeyed anyone?" He shook his head.

“I have no interest in the interference of the inquisition."

“And yet our presence here is inevitable. His radiant majesty has tasked us with one purpose, and one purpose only. We are to root out the Herald and cut out the corruption before it has a chance to fester.”

“By cut out you mean kill.” Said Blackthorne. “Your solution to every problem you encounter.”

“The great Hadrian Blackthorne put off by a bit of killing? My darling, are you loosing you edge?"

Blackthorne rose to his feet, and the movement was so fast that Xandria jerked back in surprise. Behind her, the two Darkblades shifted, placing their hands on their weapons.

Their hollow eyed masks seemed to focus on Blackthorne and I saw the air around his shoulders shimmer.

“Your mind magic won’t work on me,” he growled. Seconds later one of the Darkblades recoiled as if he had been struck.

Xandria was still smiling.

“Now now,” she said. “Play nice.”

The Darkblades relaxed, capes swirling around them. It was as if nothing had happened.

Blackthorne’s eyes blazed with anger, and for a moment, I wondered if he would strike her. Then abruptly, he turned away.

“Leave me.” He said. “Find somewhere else to play your games. But I warn you, if you disrupt my operations here, if you so much as step a foot outside the bounds of your jurisdiction, I will throw you out myself, Inquisitor or not.”

Xandria’s face shifted and I saw the first sign of irritation in her. Then her brows smoothed, and it was gone just as quickly.

“As the spear commands.” She said.

Then she turned and strode form the tent.