Marius opened his eyes and looked across at his brother. Alun woke up damp, cursing the dew as he got to his feet, and stretched out the cricks that had formed during the night. A series of cracks seemed to bring release, and Huldain chuckled from across the patch of grass at Alun's discomfort.

"You’ll regret that when you start riding."

Huldain and Olaf had woken up before the two brothers, and were packed and ready to go. Marius rolled up his sleeping mat and strapped on his blades. Now ready, he packed his mat onto his horse, and cautiously mounted into the saddle. Alun walked stiffly over to his own horse, and clambered up into his own saddle to the amusement of the other three. Now all mounted, the four companions set off down the road to Cornerstone.

Unlike Vakringuardian towns, very few of Alturine's townships had walls defending their people. The Inquisition had banned their construction, believing that they were too costly to maintain, that and no one could come over the mountains to invade. Cornerstone was no exception to this rule; it sprawled out next to a tendril of the Mother-locke, the very same that passed by Stonehill. Its quaint and idyllic surroundings of orchards, fields, and vineyards painted the countryside with a cheery scene in all seasons.

Marius, Olaf, Alun, and Huldain rode through these surroundings, leaving the rugged wild behind them. The pine forest had fallen away and turned into plantations of purposely planted timber. Lumberjacks worked hard, chopping and sawing down trees, feeding Cornerstone with fresh wood for its forges and fires. The town itself came into view alongside the road, and the four companions began to see more people walking beside them. The citizens of Cornerstone eyed them wearily, and it took Alun and Marius a while to realize how much they had changed; they were no longer people of Alturine. Marius's blades glinted in the morning sunlight, and he kept his hand on the longsword at his waist. He felt more uneasy here than he had in either Trystem or Doflhiem.

They entered the town two by two: Marius and Olaf at the front, Huldain with Alun at the back. They looked around cautiously, and made for the first inn they could find. The inn they found sat opposite the town guard house, and Olaf snorted at the irony. As always, the guards of southern Alturine were fat, and sat outside their barracks watching for any signs of trouble to avoid. Their badges held their belts in place and their trousers up.

Olaf, Marius, Alun, and Huldain pulled up at the inn and dismounted, tying up their mounts outside. Olaf went in first; the differences between Alturine and the northern kingdoms continued as he crossed the threshold. Polished floorboards and a soft carpet decorated the floor, whilst wood panelling, although similar to Trystem, was augmented with decorative wall paper. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and a small fireplace sat as a centrepiece in the wall. Olaf made his way in further, walked up to the bar, and waited for the barkeep. At this point, a perfectly groomed man stepped out from a door next to the bar, and blanched when he saw Olaf.

Olaf gave the man a smile, and beckoned him over. "I would like a room for the night," he said. "For four people."

The barkeeper seemed to struggle with this request, and looked about at the other customers worriedly. He nodded – just once.

"I'll see what I have, sir." He looked briefly down at a book and then up at Olaf. "I'm afraid not, sir, we are all booked up for the week. So sorry."

Olaf had expected this, and nodded understandably. Then he smiled and picked up the book, flipping it around so he could read it. This seemed to distress the barkeep greatly, as he cried out in alarm, causing some other customers to look about worriedly. Olaf's smile widened as he saw that a room labelled 'the Master’s Quarters' was in fact vacant for that night.

He swivelled the book around, and pointed his large finger at the room, leaving a dark smudge on the page. "It appears you've missed one, old boy. I'll take that one."

The barkeep looked dejectedly at the log book, and sighed. "Very well then, sir. Here is your key; it is the last door on your left."

Olaf smiled, and clapped the barkeep on the shoulder, knocking the wind out of him and almost sending him across the bar.

Olaf went back outside, and beckoned to the other three, who were standing around waiting for the all clear. Together, they unhitched their packs and followed Olaf inside to their room. The Master’s Quarters were a series of three bedrooms, a washroom, and a lounge joining them all together into one big apartment.

Alun walked inside and looked around, giving a whistle of appreciation. "Well, it seems that we have moved up in the world, lads."

He gave a joyous cry as he entered one of the bedrooms, and Marius walked in to see his brother rolling about on a large Ida feathered bed. Huldain and Olaf took the other two rooms, and dumped their packs inside. Olaf sniffed the air experimentally to see if Myrian was close by; sighing, he shook his head, and walked back out into the lounge.

Huldain was sat in a leather armchair looking out of the window at the passing townsfolk. He looked up as Olaf entered, and raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Well? Is he here or not?"

Olaf shook his head. "He definitely passed through Cornerstone, but I’m not sure for how long and which way he left."

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

A knock at the door startled both of them. Marius and Alun poked their heads out of the room looking at Olaf for guidance. Keeping one hand on the sword at his back, he crept forward and opened the door slightly.

It was the barkeep, and he was smiling. Olaf frowned and looked at him. "Can I help you?"

The barkeep’s smile grew, and he said, "Why yes, actually, you might be able to. I couldn't help noticing that when you signed for the room, you signed under the name Olaf Mathiuson."

Olaf nodded, confusion gripping him even more. "What of it?" He said.

The barkeep's face seemed to split at this as he pulled out a piece of paper. "Would you be an acquaintance of one Master Myrian?"

Olaf nodded, curious at the sound of Myrian's name. The barkeep handed the paper to him, and then said, "Myrian informed me that you would be passing through here, and when you did, you would settle his bill."

Olaf looked down at the paper, and saw a running cost. He frowned for a moment, and then grabbed the barkeep and hauled him into the lounge and onto a small table in the centre of the room. The barkeep was no longer smiling. He had turned from a triumphant debt collector into a snivelling mess. He squirmed and babbled incoherently, and Huldain stood up and slapped him across the face.

Marius and Alun watched with interest at the display as Olaf pulled the barkeep to his feet. A wet patch had formed in the man's crotch, and started to dribble down his leg.

Olaf looked the man straight in the eye, and said, "I am going to ask some questions about Myrian, and you are going to answer them for me. If you don't, people will die, and you will be responsible. Now, when did Myrian leave Cornerstone?"

Tears streamed down the barkeep's face. He didn't seem too well equipped for his situation, but when Huldain slammed his fist into the table, shattering it into splinters, the man fell to his knees and told Olaf everything he knew.

"He left two days ago; he told me you would come, and to tell you he left via a carriage and took it south to the sea but he didn't. He took the train to Alturine – please don't kill me, please!"

Olaf patted the man on the head and looked up at the other three. "Looks like we're going on a train ride then, lads." He looked back down at the snivelling barkeep. "When is the next train to Alturine?"

He looked up at Olaf, still terrified, but realizing that these men would soon leave, he said, "In half an hour. It leaves via the station across the river."

Olaf nodded, and undid his coin purse. He dropped a single golden coin on the floor, and turned to leave. Huldain got up, and followed whilst Alun called out to them.

"What about our packs and the room?"

Olaf stood in the doorway, and over his shoulder he said, "Leave them. We can buy food on the way and we do not need anything else."

Marius followed without question, and Alun came last, still grumbling about leaving the soft beds behind.

They headed out from the inn and left their horses. They walked past the guard house, but were untroubled as they continued on. People avoided them as they walked past, sheltering their children. Taking in the two hulking figures of Olaf and Huldain, the glowing tattoos, the countless scars, and the massive weapons did not seem to inspire confidence in the locals.

The four companions crossed a bridge over the river and saw the train station. Steam poured from the black locomotive, and red carriages lined up behind it. A ticket box sat outside the station itself, and Alun stepped up to purchase them.

"I would like four tickets, please."

An old ticket vendor sat in his box and regarded the four of them for a moment, then nodding, he put out his hand.

"That will be forty Altures, please."

Alarm gripped Alun as he forgot about the currency. He fumbled about in his jacket pocket for the paper bank notes used by Alturine, but found none. Olaf stepped in and opened up another coin purse, placing four coins into the old man's hand.

"I trust that will cover it?" He said.

The old man adjusted his spectacles and looked down. Biting one, he nodded, and pulled out four tickets, handing them to Olaf.

They walked into the station, and found a porter. He showed them to their carriage and then left, leaving them to settle in. Olaf looked about, clearly uncomfortable. Huldain sat in the corner of the carriage, humming to himself, content that they were on the move, and that they were so much closer to catching Myrian.

Marius looked at his brother, and was surprised to see fear cross his features. "What’s the matter, Alun?" He asked.

Alun licked his lips nervously, and he cleared his throat. "Let’s just say that the last time I left Alturine, I did not do so in a particularly employable manner."

Marius frowned. "What do you mean?"

Alun closed his eyes, then opened them looking up at his brother. "I was fired, Marius. I was let go from the university because of my work. I did not know it at the time, but the Inquisition does not take kindly to papers on mythology, which I now realize is actually fact. They sent men to kill me, and set fire to my office, but I escaped, and fled to Stonehill."

Marius frowned at the news.

Olaf smiled and leant over, patting Alun on the shoulder. "Don’t worry, lad," he said. "No one will harm you whilst we're here, and by all accounts, you are not the same man you were before. You can protect yourself with that bang stick you've got there."

Alun smiled up at Olaf, and looked down at his revolver. He gripped the handle to reassure himself – he was no longer a victim.

The train started to pulse into action, and Marius watched as the platform started to slip away. Huldain's humming grew as the engine noise increased, and Olaf tapped along to the tune, trying to forget that they were traveling in a machine. Marius looked out of the window at the passing countryside.

Nature had been tamed here, and it seemed strange to him that this was possible. In the northern, more rugged and wild part of the empire, where he and his brother had been raised, fields were longer, more free. Farmers in the north trimmed nature, but here they controlled it, with trees in perfect lines that bore fruit at the right time. They had orchards in the north, but they were small and rarely bore fruit. Barley fields shot by, green before the gold, swaying in the light, summery breeze. The greens were lighter here, more cheerful than their northern brothers. The greens Marius had been brought up with were always more serious, like a pine needle in comparison to an apple.

The train continued on farther south, and the countryside became tamer. Marius had not thought that it was possible to become tamer than Cornerstone, but here great villas sat upon hills, lined with square bushes and trees looking over lines upon lines of vines, giving the rich folk of Alturine their wine.

Finally, the Capitol itself came into view: the shining white city of Alturine. It was one of two exceptions in the whole empire to have a wall; it was white washed, and sparkled in the summer sun. The red rooves of the city were in contrast to the clean, pure white of its walls.

Marius stared. He had never seen the Capitol before, and now seeing the majestic towers and tall buildings, he wished he could see it all.