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Lances and Daggers
Chapter 4: In the Hall of the Mountain King

Chapter 4: In the Hall of the Mountain King

A thick blanket of fog shrouded the road, but Arthur was unhindered by the poor visibility, and the wagon advanced at a steady pace. The three peasants who had attacked us were sleeping among the luggage, while Marie and I watched the pebbly road from the back. Once in a while, we would hear Arthur talking to his cat and share a short laugh.

“How are you feeling now?” I looked at her as she curled up into a ball.

“I’m better.” She raised her head like an alert meerkat. “I’m sorry for the trouble I’m causing you.”

“You’re not causing any trouble.”

“Lance,” she began after a pause, “you said you’re an adventurer, right?”

“Yeah.” I had introduced myself only a minute ago.

“You explore the labyrinths and make money selling ingredients?”

“Well, I do the exploring part.” I’m broke. A tear rolled down my cheek.

“So, you live in a different world.”

“What do you mean?” I tilted my head. “Is that good or bad?”

She was surprised and replied quickly, “It’s good.”

“Are you sure?” I squinted at her, trying to imitate Rick’s signature stare.

She laughed and said, “When I saw you fight, I realized I’d never met someone like you before. I think I live in Ashenbrook. It’s a dull place full of dull people and nothing but routine. My family runs a business, and I have to help every day.”

“Well, settling into a routine isn’t always bad.”

I remembered the many times Rick asked me to get into “a life planner,” as he called it. He preached that a routine could help me stay organized, but I just rushed into the labyrinth at random times and without even a map.

“Lance,” Marie began again, “would you stay with me until I regain my memory? I need you.”

I blushed at her forward request. She seems to be going through a lot, and I might be able to help her. But shouldn’t I concentrate on the quest?

“Can I count on you?” she said.

Oh, no! I made a mistake by looking at her face. She was twirling the tips of her red hair and staring at me with puppy eyes.

“Till death do us part!” I shouted as my brain overheated.

She laughed innocently and thanked me.

I’ve said one word too many! What if she slows me down? What if I’m too late to return? I don’t want to disappoint Rick again.

As I panicked internally, Arthur said, “Ashenbrook in sight!”

The announcement diverted my attention away from the dilemma. I turned around and craned my neck to see the new scenery. We were arriving at a town that had appeared from inside the fog. Under the gray sky were many small buildings with thatched roofs, stone chimneys, and wooden walls. Farmers spied us from their fields, and townspeople passed by with wary looks. Their waxen faces were spiritless. Everything about this place was spiritless.

What’s the deal with this ghost town? It’s only missing Steinbach’s mansion.

Count Steinbach was a famous legend about an undead who brought fog wherever he went. He lured lost travelers to his house at night, killed them, and fed on their corpses. It was a tale meant to scare children from wandering out at night, a work of fiction and nothing more. But I wouldn’t be surprised if we stumbled upon the real thing in this town.

“It’s a different place when the sun’s out,” Arthur said.

I turned to Marie for confirmation.

“It’s always like this,” she said. “The sun rarely shines around here.”

Arthur stopped the wagon and exchanged a few words with a local. Then he turned to me and said, “The weather’s abysmal, but they’re allowing wagons up the mountain, so we’re good.”

“Up the mountain?”

“You don’t know, lad? The local authorities built their castle there. It’s a bit of a ride, so I can drop you off at the inn if you want.”

The local authorities… I said, “Thanks for the offer, but I’m coming with you. I have a few things to discuss with the authorities.”

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“Fine by me, lad. But don’t get us in trouble with those pesky nobles.”

“I’ll just ask a few questions.”

“That’s what scares me,” Arthur retorted.

But he couldn’t discourage me. The authorities had to explain why they weren’t doing their job, why they hadn’t protected Marie from the peasants. The whole incident was strange from the beginning. Why was Marie running away from Ashenbrook? Why did she flee to the open plains where the peasants could surround her and kill her?

“Lance, I feel that I shouldn’t be here,” Marie said as she curled up into a ball again. “I know these streets. After we go through the forest, we’ll arrive at the Hall of the Mountain King.”

“And what’s that?”

“The old castle where the Lord of Ashenbrook lives,” Marie explained.

Steinbach’s mansion, right? I knew it was coming.

“We shouldn’t go there.”

“Why?” I asked.

“It’s just a feeling I have.”

“I’ll be there, Marie,” I smiled. “If anything happens, I’ll protect you again.”

She nodded and calmed down.

***

Just as Marie had said, the sloping road cut through a dense forest. There were high mountains to the south of Ashenbrook, and a castle was built there to overlook the town. I couldn’t divine what lay behind the fog, but anything modest would’ve been a disappointment. I wanted a stately building to crawl out of the blinding white. Yes, the only exciting thing in this dull town would be the castle, the Hall of the Mountain King.

I fidgeted as I imagined the grandeur that awaited me, but after a silent trip, the wagon passed under a derelict stone arch—a structure on the verge of collapsing into dust and rock. And my fantasies were collapsing too.

“Is this the castle’s gate?” I shouted. “I shouldn’t have had high hopes!”

“What’s gotten into you, lad? These are the ruins of the old gate,“ Arthur laughed. “There’s the real Hall.”

I looked where he pointed and saw a castle. Towers of stone challenged the foggy sky; battlements crowned thick walls that kept back the forest; and bartizans protruded like tiny lighthouses. The disharmonious whole was not aesthetic, but it was mysterious and enticing. I hadn’t seen anything like it before, and the heart of the explorer inside me began to thump.

The wagon entered this strange new world. I looked around me in fascination for a few innocent moments, but then I remembered Marie. How was she doing? She must’ve been afraid. She must’ve been uncomfortable in this foggy courtyard. When I looked at her, I could tell that she was even shivering.

“We won’t stay for long.” I placed my hand on hers. “It’s going to be all right.”

I couldn’t meet her eyes, and she was too shy to say anything. But her shivers gradually stopped. A moment of silence followed. I patted her hand one last time and jumped off the wagon; the castle guards were approaching.

“State your business,” one of them said.

I was about to reply, but Arthur appeared next to me and whispered, “I’ll handle the talking, lad. Don’t say anything out of line for now. First impressions matter.” He took the castle guard aside, and they started talking in private.

I returned to Marie and found that she was uncomfortable again. She got off the wagon, and we stood a step apart, but I could sense a greater distance between us. She was lost in thought and trapped in a world of deep introspection. Meanwhile, I was preoccupied with the here and now.

I watched a few guards circle the wagon. They examined the wheels, the merchandise, and the horse. Then they untied the peasants’ feet. When the rope fell off, a playful guard filled a bucket from a nearby well. He counted to three in glee and then splashed cold water on the peasants’ faces.

“What? What are we doing here?” the first peasant said.

“Why are my hands tied up?” the second shouted. “I was working in my field.”

“We were attacked!” the third cried out. “We’re the victims!”

All three couldn’t have gotten a concussion at the same time, but they were such skilled actors that I almost believed them. In the end, the pitchfork and the swords were handed in as evidence. And with three impeccable testimonies, the arrest was unavoidable. The guards opened the door to the underground jail. A swish of cool air descended from the mountaintop and swirled into the austere cells. Then the attitude of the peasants changed. A switch was flipped inside them.

“You’ll pay for this!”

“Witch’s minions!”

“We’ll end the blight with your blood, witch!”

Marie hid behind me, and we ignored their shouts.

When the last peasant disappeared underground, I turned to one of the guards and said, “I’d like to meet your lord. None of the town guards were there to protect this girl.”

“The Lord of Ashenbrook is too busy for this trifling incident,” the guard said.

“I also need to discuss other matters with him.” I flashed my badge, which proved my identity. “I was sent by the Exploration Guild on official business.”

“Very well. I will inform Lord Faust, and the decision is his.”

Countryside guards are so gullible. I smirked. Now I just have to wait.

The guard hurried across the courtyard and up a flight of stairs. A door opened—large enough to let a Cyclops through—and he passed between two intimidating gargoyles into the darkness of the main building.

“He will ask you to go inside alone,” Marie said.

“I won’t go anywhere without you,” I said.

Her eyes opened like two full moons, and she added, “He will ask you to meet him alone, then to join him for a meal... You have to say no to the food.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t eat the food in this castle.” She blinked, and her eyes returned to normal.

“Did you remember something?”

“I…”

“Marie, what’s wrong?”

Before she could answer, the large door creaked, and the impatient guard called for me: “You have been granted an audience with Lord Faust. Follow me.”

“Marie, let’s go,” I said.

“You must enter alone,” the guard said. “This is my lord’s wish.”

“I want her to come with me.”

“Enter alone, or go back to your guild.”

“Marie is safe with me, lad,” Arthur said.

“I’ll wait for you here.” She nodded.

“Fine…” I sighed. “I won’t entertain Lord Faust for long.”