Meanwhile, the guard that had ridden ahead was being led through Lord Draycott’s castle. There were signs of opulence everywhere, the walls were lined with rich tapestries and the flagstones underfoot were covered with thickly woven rugs. The Lord Draycott was not one to stand for a lesser quality standard of living. The guard was led into Lord Draycott’s audience chamber where the Lord himself sat in his oversized throne. Flanking this throne was a smaller one occupied by a frail old man, the Lord’s advisor, Arcaedus. The man that was the Lord Draycott sat tall in his throne; his rich golden hair was swept back behind his ears, defining the style for the outlying region. His clothes too had affected the fashion of the inhabitants in the surrounding villages. Those unable to afford the rich silks that their Lord wore, instead had the same style and cut, but from lesser materials such as wool. He wore tight trousers with a long waistcoat over which he wore a burnished silver breastplate. The breastplate which, along with the studded leather kilt around his waist, showed that these were indeed times of war. Lord Draycott stopped talking to Arcaedus and looked up at the visitor. The man wisely prostrated himself before the Lord and then only rose to his knees when Draycott gestured him to do so. ‘At least this man knows his place’ Draycott thought to himself.

“My Lord,” the guard began, “My name is Mattief, I am one of the guardsmen for the Lady Mercer, and I have some dire news.”

“Ah yes, my loyal First Merchant,” Draycott replied, “What has befallen her?”

Mattief, rubbed his hands together and nervously continued, “As we were coming towards the city, a man charged at us from the roadside and threw a fireball at Strinder, our driver. Strinder was hurled from the cart on impact; it was only by the Lady’s skill that she stopped the horses, My Lord.” He stopped and looked up, waiting for a sign to continue.

“Yes, she is quite the skilled woman isn’t she?” asked Draycott rhetorically, “This man, with the fireballs you say, what did he look like, how old did he look?”

“It was strange garb My Lord, while I know we get cold seasons here, what he was wearing was much more suitable for somewhere covered in a permanent snow. He had a furred cloak and boots. Oh and his gloves were furred too. His jerkin looked like leather and he had a kilt on like yours but not studded. And he had a strange belt on,” described Mattief who then added a belated “My Lord” when Draycott crooked an eyebrow at him. Arcaedus murmured something to Draycott who looked back at Mattief and said “Ah yes, Arcaedus here asks what his face looked like?”

“His face my Lord? I couldn’t say. I couldn’t see it; he had his cloak pulled over it. I’m sorry my Lord” replied Mattief bowing his head again.

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“What say you Arcaedus? Do we have cause for alarm?”

Arcaedus raised his head and pulled back his hood, his sightless eyes stared into the beyond and his white hair wisped in all directions. The expression on his aged face radiated a certainty, a surety that even though he was a blind and frail old man; he was not yet without his faculties. When he spoke, it was a throaty sound, a raspy whisper, “The man you describe sounds like a wanderer, he is not yet used to the weather here or he would have discarded his heavy clothes some days ago.” He paused and gathered himself before continuing, “The magic you speak of, you say he simply threw a fireball? Was there an incantation? Did he say anything?”

Mattief, startled to be included in the conversation once more quickly replied, “I didn’t hear any words. He did yell as he threw it though.”

Arcaedus nodded his head listening and then he said to Mattief, “Thank you for letting us know. We will take it from here. You may withdraw.”

Mattief gets up and started to leave, but Draycott stopped him. “Wait. We could use some more loyal men like you in the guards. Go and speak to my captain and he will find a spot worthy for you within my ranks.”

Mattief’s eyes widened at the prospect of this and he bowed deeply and said “Thank you my Lord” with the utmost sincerity.

After Mattief was gone, Draycott turned to Arcaedus once more. “Should we bring him in? What do you See of him?”

Arcaedus chuckled, “You of all people Edmund should know that Seeing doesn’t work like that. But I would advise bringing him in, if he can indeed work magic like Mattief described, we can put him to work with the woman and together we might actually get somewhere with our problem. Don’t worry, I will expand the dampening field so he can’t use his more powerful magic, he will be limited.”

Draycott nodded in agreement, “But just make sure you don’t disappear again. Last time you did that, I lost my captain and had to find another.”

Arcaedus shook his head, “I’m sorry Edmund, and I cannot stay. The power I have poured into the dampening field drains me greatly. I have to take my leave so I can rest and recover some of my energy. I am not after all, going to get any younger.”

“Then use some of my power, you said you could.”

Arcaedus chuckled again, “You misunderstand me once again my friend, I can use some of your power, but not all of it, I can’t even fathom the extent of the power you have, I’m not even sure where it comes from.”

“So be it,” Draycott acceded, “But rest quickly, our plans for the French cannot be held off forever.”

“No, no they cannot,” agreed Arcaedus and slowly got to his feet and shuffled away.

“Guard,” called Draycott.

Outside the audience chamber, guardsman Jonathan Wayte heard the Lord Draycott’s summons and entered, “Yes my Lord?”

“Assemble a team and talk to the new man Mattief, you should find him with the captain, he will tell you of the wanderer. We need to take this man into custody. He was last attacking the First Merchant’s carriage. Go to her home in the city and see what you can find. Be wary though, he is a magicker and may be holding her against her will. Bring them both here.”

“It will be as you say my Lord,” said Wayte with a bow and left.

Lord Draycott clasped his hands together and leaned back against his throne.