Thunder rolled over the darkening sky, the sound akin to the rumbling of empty wine caskets bouncing down a stony hill. It reverberated between the surrounding peaks, its echo strong enough to frighten a flock of crows nesting on Ildemar’s towers. In a storm of beaks and feathers, the scared birds spiraled up towards the ash-gray clouds with loud caws, and anyone who saw the menacing flock spat over their shoulder knowing them for what they were – harbingers of ill luck. Then the sky was split anew by the meandering glow of lightning, twisting and branching out like the hungry claws of a beast, followed by the roar of a second thunder that overlapped, resonated with, and finally drowned the previous one.

While the ominous clouds hung over the pointy roofs of castle Ildemar, another type of storm was quietly brewing inside.

With Rish walking closely by her side, Lorelei was approaching the small hall where the meeting of Yalda’s peers was supposed to take place. The closer they got to their destination, the heavier her heart grew. The meeting room was just around the corner when Rish gently tugged her mistress’ sleeve.

“Not this way, my lady. Come with me.”

Perplexed, Lorelei followed her to a small adjacent room. The moment the two stepped over the threshold, she understood the reason for their detour. Contoured in the gray light coming from the outside, a dark silhouette was leaning on the window frame. As the two young women entered, the man turned around to greet them.

“Good morning, my duchess.” Noah stepped forward and bend over to kiss her hand but then frowned. “Your fingers are ice-cold. Rish, go back and grab the lady a cloak.”

“There is no need,” replied Lorelei and felt a slight warmth spreading over her cheeks. “I am not cold, my lord. It’s just…”

She couldn’t finish her sentence. It was so stupid and embarrassing. If he knew the truth, Noah would definitely laugh at her and see her as a weakling. Unfortunately, today her husband was especially sharp.

“There is no need to be nervous.” He squeezed her fingers a bit tighter. “You are the one doing us a favor. Just go out there with head held high, tell us what you know, and leave the rest to me. I won’t allow anyone to harm you anymore.”

The sincerity and resolve in his voice filled Lorelei’s chest with a fluffy, warm feeling, melting away her anxiety. Somehow, despite everything, she still trusted him.

“Do I have the word of the Beast of the North?”

“You do, my duchess,” he replied in earnest but his eyes were smiling, “now and forever.”

Then he turned around and led her away, but, to Lorelei’s confusion, they didn’t go for the door but approached one of the walls. It was adorned with an enormous, intricate woodcarving representing a tree, each branch carrying the crests and faces of the now severed line of the previous dukes of Norden, their wives, and children. Noah pressed one of the crests and a hidden panel moved to the side, revealing a netted spyhole.

“Before you plunge into battle, it’s good to know the enemy,” said the man and chuckled at his wife’s bewilderment.

He motioned to Lorelei and soon the two were peering through the spyhole, their heads almost touching.

On the other side of the wall was a large room with tapestries and hunting trophies hanging from the walls. Two large candelabras dropped from the ceiling and illuminated the long table below, now packed with people donning colorful gowns and possessing even more colorful faces.

“You know some of them already,” whispered Noah in her ear. “Gerash and Duncan are there since they participated in the attack and Aiden heads the search for the remaining Red Hands. You know the Mother Prioress Roslinde from Widow Island. She is stepping in for the Abbess who has been sick for some time now.”

“Lady Nelini is also there,” said Lorelei in a low voice, slightly perplexed, while measuring up the old Marzbanati who looked like a bundle of flames in her red and yellow gowns.

“She is,” confirmed her husband calmly. “During the years, she has earned her place on this table. Her merits far exceed her initial duties as my wetnurse. You can trust her and her judgment.”

Lorelei never doubted that. Her brief encounter with her husband’s second mother had taught her that Lady Nelini Abrahmandar was someone fiercely loyal to the new ruler of Norden. Whether the Marzbanati was on her side, however, was something Lorelei had yet to find out. She tried to put this unsettling thought at the back of her head and concentrate on the present.

“Who are the rest?”

“The burly man with the big beard next to Aiden is the Lord Mayor of Yalda, Preston. He is an ambitious man who likes to talk. And I really mean talk. The short-haired lad with the dark face on Duncan’s left is the harbor foreman Colin. He is helping us to investigate the way the Red Hands and their accomplices have been smuggling children and youths out of Yalda.”

“You… you mean that the girls in the brothel weren’t the only ones?” Lorelei felt her stomach painfully cramping as the lecherous voices of her captors echoed in her ears.

“I fear it is bigger than that,” replied Noah and his face was grim. “You will hear more about it in a moment. But let’s continue with the rest. The old woman sitting close to Aiden is Baba Tevishka. She is the spokesperson for the Binshi in Yalda and has a large shop for amulets and herbal remedies. I think the two of you might like each other.”

“It would be delightful to talk to her sometime.” Lorelei’s expression lightened a bit. “And who is the… large-bodied man glaring daggers at Baba Tevishka?”

“Fat Edwin De Roy. He is the fourth son of a rather poor baron on the mainland but he moved here since he can’t inherit land or title. He might not be fit for a noble but he sure has the making of a merchant to the point that he is the spokesman for all the Limerian guilds in Yalda. He is in the fur trade and buys from the Binshi hunters in the far north. It is a known secret that Fat Edwin and Baba Tevishka are butting heads over the prices he is paying the hunters.”

“I see.” Lorelei pondered for a bit. “Actually, I wanted to ask for a while. Why are the five ruling families in Norden only the rank of baron? Shouldn’t they be margraves or counts? I mean, the son of a mainland baron is only a merchant in Norden, so the difference is obvious.”

“It is a historical thing,” shrugged Noah. “When the first colonies were founded, Norden was of little importance to the Empire so the nobles sent to the new lands were not exactly the most favored by the crown. It was considered punishment to be assigned to the wildlands. Later, when precious stones were found, it was already too late and the five barons had amassed considerable wealth and power. The imperial court decided, out of vanity, to keep the titles in an attempt to show the inferiority of Norden’s nobility and rob them of any political power. Honestly, who would give a damn about some court rank if they have more resources than any of the mainland counts?”

“Norden is that strong?” Lorelei was taken aback. All that she knew about the northern territories before coming here was that these were harsh, savage lands, barely scraping by due to the cold weather. But seeing the bustling trade and the lively streets of Yalda that could easily rival Sefis, she was starting to reevaluate her new homeland.

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

“Norden is strong,” Noah’s eyes sparkled. “Far stronger than some would like. Many think that it is because of the Binshi threat but they are wrong. If it weren’t for the Red Hands, Norden would be much, much stronger. A united North where magic and steel work together was the dream of Yanosh. And is the greatest fear of the imperial court.”

“They think that you would rebel?” Lorelei threw him a side glance. “But… you wouldn’t. Would you?”

“Why would I bother?” Her husband snorted. “My hands are full as they are. I just want to be left to live the rest of my days in peace, and if I can be spared even a sniff of the capital’s air, I would be the happiest man ever. But it seems that my dreams are too hard for some to believe.”

“If that is any consolation, I do believe you,” said Lorelei, her statement startling the man next to her quite a bit. He blinked a couple of times before his lips stretched in a warm smile.

“Thank you, Lady Norden. I think that we will work well together in the time we have. I am even starting to regret having to let you go so soon,” said Noah but seeing Lorelei flinch, he added quickly. “It was just a joke, my lady, an inconsiderate one at that. Please, accept my apology.”

“Maybe we should finish with the introductions and start the meeting, my lord,” replied Lorelei dryly but her heart was still racing. “I believe that the willowy old man in black and white is the bishop of Yalda, am I correct?”

“Indeed,” Noah continued with his normal tone as if nothing had happened. “That is Bishop Petronius. He is… well, let’s just say that he is not overly zealous but the sisters from Widow Island are much more broadminded when it comes to mixed marriages and their resulting offspring.”

“He is persecuting mixed-bloods?”

“Not to the point of burning them as demon spawns but he also would never officiate a mixed marriage or baptize the children. And no, before you ask, he is not one of the Red Hands. I have made all possible inquiries. In any case, he is an honorable man and not the worst amongst the clergy.”

Lorelei took one final look at the people gathered around the long table. New and old faces alike, all were adorned with solemn expressions and the low conversations that took place here and there were brisk and dry. The serious nature of the meeting was evident even before it started.

Licking her lips, Lorelei turned to Noah.

“Shall we go?”

“It is indeed about time.”

Noah closed the spyhole and offered her his hand again, which she accepted. He then made a sign to Rish.

“Wait for us outside the hall and escort the lady back to her chambers after the meeting is over.”

“But… shouldn’t I go in with the lady… for support?” The young Binshi fidgeted a bit but still managed to state her point more or less calmly.

“Not this time.” Noah’s tone was stern but not angry. “No attendants are allowed on this meeting. There are things that will be discussed which are not for everyone’s ears.” He then gave Lorelei a glance and pondered for a bit. “How much your mistress will discuss with you afterwards, I leave to her discretion.”

“I understand, my lord,” Rish lowered her head ashamed of her impulsiveness.

With that matter settled, the Lord and Lady of Norden exited the room, followed by the beet-red Binshi. As they stood before the double-door of the meeting hall, Lorelei felt her heart jump almost to her throat. She took a heavy breath and moistened her lips. Noah, who had given her a moment to compose herself, pressed the handle and guided her in.

The moment the two entered, everyone around the table stood up to face them, their right hands over the left side of their chests.

“Greetings to the rulers of Norden!” they said in unison and bowed.

“Arise, dear guests,” greeted Noah in return and lead Lorelei to the lower end of the table.

After she took her place, her husband went to the head seat and motioned to the others to sit down. Lorelei looked around and was delighted to see who her table neighbors were. To her left sat the mother prioress, smiling gently at her as a grandmother would at a granddaughter. To the right, Sir Gregor, in a much better mood than she had last seen him, gave her a reassuring wink.

“Thank you all for coming today,” Noah started with a solemn expression, attracting everyone’s attention. “It is not a joyous occasion that has gathered us but we all carry a duty to protect and give justice to the ones who can’t do so themselves. A week ago, I personally witnessed a crime so horrendous that it shook me to my very core. Many of you have either participated in resolving the situation or have been informed about its outcome but today you are here to learn the whole truth and judge the ones involved. Lady Abrahmandar will be writing all our words today and copies will be prepared at a later date for the Church’s archives and the Lord Mayor’s ledgers.”

At his words, Neli placed a piece of paper from the stack beside her on the table and dipped her quill in ink. Shortly after, the scratching sound of the tip filled the room.

Nodding in approval, Noah turned to Aiden.

“Sir Aiden, as captain of Ildemar’s knights and acting commander of Yalda’s city guard, give us a recount of what has transpired and how it all started.”

“Yes, my lord,” the knight stood up, straight as a rod, and put his hands behind his back. “A fortnight ago, a body washed ashore near the vagrants’ camp. It was of a young girl…”

As captain Aiden recalled the founding Danika’s corpse, Lorelei felt her limbs growing cold. The memories of that day and the ones that followed were still so vivid that she could smell the stench of seaweed and the slight sweetness of face powder and decaying flesh. She bit the inside of her mouth in an attempt to stop the urge to vomit. Looking back, she was surprised at how calm she had been checking the body.

Suddenly, Lorelei felt a warm hand clasping around her trembling fingers. The Mother Prioress gave her a knowing, compassionate look. This sign of support was unexpected but sorely needed and thus appreciated. Lorelei felt the ghosts of the recent past shrinking to mere shadows at the back of her head. She managed to concentrate again on Aiden’s report that was almost finished. He was just telling about the involvement of Sister Simone in the arson of the refugee camp.

“I still don’t get it,” Fat Edwin suddenly interrupted the knight, his fingers drumming on the table, “why are we turning this in such a big deal to require a meeting with the duke?”

“Oh, so it is not a big deal since the girls are not Limerian?” Baba Tevishka slammed her hand on the table just in time as thunder rumbled outside the window. “You haven’t seen the poor children – broken, ruined, helpless…”

“Spare me the drama,” the merchant rolled his eyes. “They would have ended in a brothel or on a street corner anyway, either sold by their family or by their own volution. If the choice is to die of cold and hunger or sell their bodies, the answer is clear.”

“You fat pig!” Baba Tevishka almost jumped over the table to scratch his face. “What if someone kidnapped your children and sold them to dirty old men to play with them as they please?”

“This would never happen, you old hag, since they would be dead before they tried. But we are talking about orphans. The children of beggars who would sell their own liver to get some booze. Do you expect me to personally save every child in Yalda? In the whole of Norden? Grow up and start acting your age!”

“Indeed, baba,” the Lord Mayor Preston joined the conversation carrying a placating expression, “it is impossible to care for everybody, especially if they don’t want to be helped. I believe the sisters from Widow Island had offered their assistance ever since the first vagrants appeared around mid-winter but most of them refused any help from the church. Am I right, Mother Prioress?”

“That was the case,” the old nun reluctantly agreed. “However, it must be noted that the poor souls, who were mostly Binshi from the borderlands, were driven away by, I believe, Limerian bandits, and were understandably hesitant to trust us. And as it turned out, they had every right to do so. That horrible woman posed as one of us and used Widow Island as cover to abduct and sell children.”

“You see!” Baba Tevishka glared at everyone around the table. “Again and again, Limerians ignore and wrong us Binshi! You rob us of our land. You rob us of our children, our future! So much about us being a united folk.”

“And when did your people start worrying about mixed-bloods?” The Bishop of Yalda, who had remained silent until that moment said in a calm tone. “Can you swear upon that spirit of yours or whatever you worship that you don’t see them as lesser beings, that you put the same care and devotion in raising them as you do with your pure offspring?”

“Let’s stop here,” Yalda’s mayor looked quite flustered, little beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. “As far as I understand it, the people involved have already been killed or caught. Just hang the bastards and be done with it.”

“Sweeping things under the rug?” the old Binshi was screaming and pointing fingers around. “Those are small fish! I bet you are hiding the real perpetrators!”

“You dare accuse us of soliciting a crime!?” Fat Edwin jumped up abruptly, throwing his chair backward with a bang.

“You did nothing to prevent it!”

“Neither did you, you old hag!”

“That’s enough!”

Just two words made everyone freeze. The weather taking a cue, a strong wind shook the windows accompanied by a flash of lightning and deafening thunder.