Lord Morgan received Prince Kerwin's report while he was deliberating about the desired future for the kingdom with his two most trusted advisors, the man of multiple talents and his right-hand man, LeMark, and Duke Kish, an older nobleman he married his youngest daughter. He also pressured his brother to make the Duke the Secretary of Coins.
All in all, it was a small price to pay to secure an alliance with the Kish's powerful house that controlled rich southern grain fields and counted over 1,000 swordsmen among its security forces.
After towering over the letter for a long moment, Lord Morgan's mood worsened to the point he just wanted to lash out at anything and anyone. Almost anyone.
The first thing that set him off was the obvious implication that the Prince was still alive.
“How could they have failed? It should have already been done!” he complained lividly.
Then, there was the absence of any word from Principal Lub.
“I guess Principal Lub is not interested in sharing his information with us! Not a single word! What are we to think??? Maybe we need another Principal,” Lord Morgan calculated, unaware of Lub's demise and that actually they would definitely need another principal
And to top it all off, the idea that the young and reckless Prince was stupid enough to engage a dungeon all on his own, with a mere fifty-plus soldiers, and lived to write about it had turned the wrong wheels inside Lord Morgan's head and he was just steaming mad.
"Doesn't that stupid kid know that you can't fight dungeons? How many soldiers are we to lose there this time around? And just to piss some dungeon off?”
“Hard to say, my Lord.”
“As stupid as my brother. Does he not know you need to negotiate with dungeons, not fight them?? My brother decided to fight one and look what it got us?”
"He does not know. He probably looks to his father as a hero."
"Huh, his father. He has no clue how much 'his father' fiasco with some dungeon had cost us. And what does he have to show for it? Five thousand soldiers killed. The whole budget ruined. And for what? If he only listened to me! Fool! And now he'll die and leave us all in even a bigger mess."
"The kid is obviously an idiot,” Duke Kish finally spoke, trying to side with Lord Morgan's thinking. “You were right when you said that we need to stop him. And there is no better time than now.”
“I want him called back, our troops pulled back, I want him...gone," Lord Morgan said. “Do we still not know what happened to Sergeant Rewin's family?”
“No, my Lord,” LeMark answered. “No traces of his wife and children, no traces of guards that were keeping them safe.”
“They could not have vanished into thin air?”
“I'm looking, my Lord. We do not know what happened yet. There were not even signs of struggle, not a drop of blood was found. Very strange.”
“You find out what happened there, LeMark. I'm counting on you. Things are happening and nobody can explain them to me. What am I to think?”
LeMark coughed and cleared his throat. "Yes, my Lord. But if I may add... Maybe this presents an opportunity, my Lord."
“What do you mean?”
"I mean, you will call back the Prince. And he will be traveling back to the Castle all by himself. Maybe an accident, maybe some monster from the dungeon would get in his way...? Nobody would think to blame you if he ended up dead before he is to show up here."
"Exactly,” Duke Kish agreed instantly. “At times like this, it's always good not to have anything liking you to the death of the Prince. From what I hear, he's quite popular among people.”
“And people are nervous now, my Lord. With the King's illness, the rumors of green clouds being seen in the north and the Prophecy of Neisas on their mind, they are worried."
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“People...? Who cares. They can worry all they want. But, fine, let's do it discreetly.”
“I can have a dozen of my best swordsmen escorting him back,” Duke Kish offered. “And if one or two of them were to shoot a shaft in his back, we could just rip his body apart, make sure it looks like a beast got him. And we would never again have to talk about that boy."
“Yes, that could work. Make sure your swordsmen change their uniforms. LeMark will give them the exact ones of the King's guards. Just to make the Prince less suspicious.”
“That's a great idea, my Lord.”
“So, yes, I'll write him a letter. Commanding him to come back. He cannot refuse me. Make sure that they leave right away. I want this to be dealt with before it gets out of hand. And, just to make sure that they do it right... you go along LeMark.”
“My Lord, if the Prince sees me, he may get suspicious.”
“You're right about that. You wait in that village, Twin Oaks. And when you hear that the Prince is dead, I want you to go to see about that dungeon. I need to know what we are dealing with here. Gather all the information you can, but do not engage it. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my Lord. It will be done as you command.”
Steward of Arms Helfin arrived at a small farmhouse outside the city walls before the Big Bell could toll the hour of midnight.
He knocked against its heavy wooden door in a sequence of three rapid knocks followed by three short ones and then two rapid ones again and the door opened to reveal a woman in her late twenties with a nasty scar over her right temple.
"What do you want?" she asked right away. “I hope you have not been followed.”
“I left through the secret exit, no need to worry,” Steward Helfin said, his face still covered under a big hood. “And I would not be here if it was not needed. So watch your tongue, Trisha. And move! Don't plan to stand here in the door.”
As she let him in, Steward Helfin nodded his head to a slim tall figure standing a few steps away with both hands on the handles of daggers he kept behind his back.
“Relax, Tan,” Steward told him right away. “Prince Kerwin send me a letter for both of you. You better read it."
"Why did he send it to you?" the woman asked.
"Maybe a big part of it is concerning me. Maybe he did not want to send you one, he did not want anyone to see the soldier coming here. I do not know. Take your pick. Now read it for yourself. And let me see Sergeants Rewin's family. I hope they have not been harmed.”
"We're keeping them safe,” Trisha said. “They are upstairs sleeping. They are fine."
Steward Helfin stared at her for a moment as her eyes went over the letter. "I assume you can read?"
"And I assume you're not stupid just because you can?"
"That's a good assumption, but often wrong. Shame as it is, I know a lot of people who can read and are still very stupid."
"There you go."
The woman put the letter closer to the lantern and read it slowly, her face growing more frowned, her scar becoming uglier and deeper still. In the end, she sighed and snorted and asked Steward as she put the paper down. "So, you have the money?"
"Do I look like a guy who has that kind of money?"
"So, then what? Without coins, and a lot of coins, we can't hire anyone to come with us to fight some dungeon.”
"I know. But, if the situation is as serious as the Prince says it is, we have to do the best we can."
"And what does that mean?"
"Not everything has to be paid upfront, does it? And I can call in a few favors with the taverns around the city. They'll give credits."
"Well, he does not leave us a lot of time. He says we need to leave two days tops."
"He's wrong. We don't have two days time. If Lord Morgan hears about this, he'll have us in chains in no time. That's why I am here. We need to do this now."
"When you say now... you do;? mean now now, do you?"
"Yes. Yes, I do. We need to gather who we can tonight. And be gone in the morning.”
"So... we... you're coming too?"
"Yes."
"You'll slow us down."
"I may stay in Twin Oaks. But I need to go there and see what I can do. Here, I'm just too exposed and too far away from the battlefield."
"Suite yourself. But you will not slow us down, you understand?"
After visiting four taverns and signing up about two dozen people Trisha and Steward Helfin saw fit, they decided to try their luck for the last time and visit a small place, just outside the City Gate.
Steward Helfin gave the same speech as before, but, from all he deemed capable, he could not see anyone interested.
They were ready to turn around and leave when a woman's voice made them stop and turn around.
"I'll go," a hooded woman sitting in the back said then she got up, unhooded her head to show a long red hair, and innocently smiled at them. "I'll come with you to fight that monstrous dungeone."
Trisha walked to her. "The job requires fighting experience. So, you say you have it?"
"Yes, yes I do."
"Fighting who?"
"Whoever I don't like."
"And if you don't like me...?"
"Now, why would a pretty thing like ever say something like that?" the red-haired woman said, still smiling at her.
"I like you," the woman said and just as she turned around to leave, a long dagger suddenly appeared in her hand, pulled from the sleeve of her left hand and the dagger flashed through the air, going at the red-haired woman with the intention of stopping it right before her eyes.
But the red-haired woman was not sitting down anymore. She moved faster than Trisha could react, and suddenly stood right next to her with a dagger in her hand, right underneath Trisha's throat.
"Don't test me. I do not like to be tested," the red-haired woman said quietly but with a cold warning in her voice.
"Oh, I like her. Yeah, I really like her,” Trisha said as she slowly pulled away from the blade.
Then she made a few steps toward the door before she turned around and said to the red-haired woman, “Hey... so you're coming?"
The smile returned to the red-haired woman's face as her dagger disappeared and she said, "Would not miss it for a world.”