There was no chapel bell to wake me here, but I roused myself at my usual hour, or near it, by the light in the sky when I pulled back the heavy curtains, with military punctuality in any case. Years of habit drilled the routine into the body, so that one slept and woke like a clockwork automaton. Though it hadn’t been a full night of rest thanks to the baron’s long conversations, the quality of the bedclothes and the mattress was very high, and I felt more rested than I expected.

I made an ordinary morning toilet, unexpectedly hindered by having to shave using my tiny shaving glass where one might expect a mansion of this opulence to have a large silvered glass at the dresser. It was still quite sufficient, of course, the heavy features of Friedrich Schreiner looking back at me piece by piece, but it was incongruous.

After packing all my goods away back into their bags in preparation, I let myself out into the hallway. I had a mind to step out into the courtyard to stretch my legs and take some air before breakfast, so I set out down the hallway, the sound of my boots muffled by the carpet.

I was obliged to mind my step in case I should miss the stairs. The lamps had burned down in the night, it seemed, for with the omnipresent heavy drapes concealing the windows save for cracks of light here and there, it was still quite nearly dark.

Despite Baron Zagory’s concern for our orientation the night before, I found little difficulty making my way to the imposing front door. The layout of the castle was traditional, and the rooms in which we were quartered not so deep into the keep as to merit the kind of labyrinthine design that plagued such buildings.

More difficult, on the other hand, was exiting via that same door, as I found it not only bolted but also locked, with no key anywhere in evidence. I made a small search about to be sure I hadn’t simply missed a smaller entry portal set into the door or some such, but it remained the immovably monolithic slab I had seen from the other side last night. I supposed it was a reasonable precaution, if the castle were truly staffed by only a very few servants, but still, it was discomfiting. It was not as though the castle were besieged and Zagory need worry that an infiltrator would throw open the door and admit an enemy army.

I idly ran a hand over my hair, considering my options. I could simply concede that the day ahead held an abundance of walking, I need not preempt it, and wait for Baron Zagory to see us off; or, having some time before my companions were likely to wake, I could look for another exit.

Having nothing else to do, I decided on the latter. The prospect of returning to my chamber, comfortable as it was, just to wait was not especially appealing. With that resolve, I wandered the corridors for some time. Although I was never truly lost, it did lend credibility to the baron’s warning.

In the end, before I found another door I found, in fact, the aforementioned gentleman. He reclined in a large armchair, reading a newssheet by the feeble light of a dim lantern, its wick shortened so it was all but choked by its collar. The anaemic light hollowed the recesses of his eyes to abyssal pits and picked out his other features in parchment yellow, giving a moment’s impression that I beheld a years-dead mummy still clutching the paper it read at the hour of its death.

In a moment Zagory sat up, exclaiming “Zerheim!” and turning up the wick of the lantern. Like a drowning man greedily sucking in air, the flame leapt to life and the illusion of some forsaken tomb was dispelled as Zagory became again nothing more than an elderly gentleman with piercing eyes.

“Forgive my rudeness,” he said, rising to his feet and setting the paper aside. “I had not thought anyone awake yet.”

“Not at all, Baron,” I averred, “I am merely an early riser. I had thought to take some air, see to my horse, and speak with the men, but I found the doors locked.”

“Ah, I must apologise again.” He touched his chest with his hand for emphasis, nails clicking on the buttons of his shirt. “You know how it is of late, with times what they are. One cannot be too careful. Of course, you need but ask if you wish to leave, but for now, come! Breakfast is prepared, and you must be hungry. Unless perhaps you do not eat, of a morning? But you must of course take some coffee.”

So saying, he bustled from the room and I followed in his wake as he gestured, courtesy leaving me no alternative. My efforts to draw him into conversation about the nature of his fears for his safety were in vain, every question being met with a vague dismissal or an adroit non-answer, so that by the time we arrived once more at the chamber where we had dined last night, I was quite certain I should never get anything from the man.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

The breakfast set out was humble, by comparison with the repasts at the Embassy in Wrislat, for which Baron Zagory profusely apologised. It was nevertheless quite sufficient for my tastes, and drew no complaint from my companions as they made their appearances. The meal passed in quiet conversation with the baron, who again ate little or nothing, but took a keen interest in the goings-on in Immerland and the Empire.

In the end, I excused myself and stood from the table. “I must speak with the men and make ready for our departure, if you will pardon me.”

“I suppose then I cannot impose on you to stay here longer?” The baron asked with a pained smile.

“We must be on our way, Baron,” Prince Franz said with a polite look of apology. “Time waits for no man, as much as we should like to enjoy your hospitality longer.”

“Then let me show you to the barracks,” he said, rising from the table himself. “The castle is an involuted place, as you have seen.”

“It is regrettable you will not stay,” Zagory continued as we walked through the corridors, Leutnant Otto joining us. The heavy curtains were still drawn, I supposed for want of servants to open them each morning, and he carried with him a lamp against the gloom. “In a domicile so large, I grow terribly lonesome, and must cherish what company I may receive. None of your companions would remain here a spell?”

“I’m afraid every one is essential, sir,” I politely rebuffed him. “As you said, these are troubled times, though now it seems all times are troubled, and each has his part to play. The safety of His Highness is paramount.

“Not even one of your dragoons?” He sighed wistfully. “The villagers fear me so, I know not why, so even so-called ‘coarser’ folk have become rarified for me.”

“They are a squadron of Her Majesty’s Royal Guard, sir, and I fear I should have great difficulty making an account to her of why I left a man in fighting form in Zagory, sir.”

“Then there is nothing else to be done,” he conceded, although his eyes were distant, as though he were already thinking of something else. We passed a few more doors and turns before he spoke again. “Well, here is the barracks, Captain, Leutnant. I fear I must leave you here, much as I should love to greet the men, and return in case others of your companions require guidance. I hope you find them all in good health.”

So saying, he inclined his head and turned away, the light of his lamp quickly disappearing around a corner and being devoured by the dark, hungry drapery.

To my relief the barracks was light, almost blindingly so, as I knocked sharply on the door and pressed it open. The familiar smell of men on the road, valiantly diminished by the efforts of soap and water but never entirely vanquished, greeted me, but little of the raucous chatter around the mess table I expected.

“Schreiner,” Kaczmarek greeted me from her chair, before belatedly appending a “Cap’n,” while the rest of the squad jumped to their feet to salute and she reluctantly followed.

“At ease, men. Jäger. What’s the matter?”

She shook her head as they sat back down. “This place is bloody unnatural. Dead silent all night, not a peep of a cricket or a night bird from outside. Then I swear on the Immer I heard something sniff at the door. Becker near on had a bedwetting incident, but when I went to the door with my sabre there was nothing there.”

I ran my over my hair, blinking. Kaczmarek was terribly prone to the telling of tall tales, but as recklessly insubordinate as she was she knew the time and place; on top of which, I’d trust her eyes and ears above close on anyone else’s I knew.

“Anything else to report?”

“That driver — Tomasz — brought trays of bread and meat, but right at the crack of dawn. Funniest thing, though, was Schwarz had a token of the Mountain hanging off his bunk and he looked about ready to spit on it. Crossed the room to avoid it. Good fresh bread, though,” She added as an afterthought, stuffing a piece in her mouth.

“I hope you find them all in good health” was beginning to sit in my stomach like a cannonball. “No other incidents, then?” I asked. “No casualties?”

“Casualties?” She cocked an eyebrow. “Being an officer got to you that quickly, cap? Any of these lads look dead or injured to you?”

I sighed. “Alright, point well made, Kaczmarek. I’ve been on edge. You’re not the only one that’s finding this castle uncomfortable.” I abruptly clapped my hands, making the guardsmen jump again. “So let’s be on our way! We’ve already seen to courtesy; as soon as practicality allows, I should like to be on the road again.”