As usual, the King did not attend his council meeting. The chancellor was running the meeting in his stead. They met once every other day to discuss the running of the kingdom. The council would come up with policies, and Adrian Whitestone would have to choke up the money for it. He was the treasurer of the Kingdom, a title he had been rewarded for being born to a rich family. He had a good mind for arithmetic so he did not mind, but he found these meetings to be exceedingly boring. He was twenty-one years old, the youngest in the room.

Adrian should have been paying attention, but Dixie clouded his thoughts. He was infatuated with her. They met in secret, with Adrian often having to scale the walls of the Blackstone townhouse to get into Dixie’s room. The fact that their affair was secret made the sex that much sweeter. Just thinking about it made Adrian hard. Oh dear – how embarrassing. He tried to hide it by crossing his legs and doing his best to follow the proceedings.

A relationship between a Blackstone and a Whitestone would be scandalous, to say the least. If the names weren’t indicative enough, the two families had centuries of bad blood between them. No one knew when or how the enmity started; all they knew was that it was a fact of life. Stuck in the past, all of them.

“Lord Treasurer is this venture feasible?” the chancellor asked.

“I’m afraid not.” They always asked him questions out of the blue to catch him off guard. Jokes on you I can multitask. “If we standardized the army’s weaponry, as the Lord Marshal suggests, we would have to provide for said weapons. That would require diverting funds from other projects.”

“We’ve spoken about this before,” Marshall Bluewater said. “You said it was doable.”

“My apologies sir, but that was eight months ago when we weren’t in the middle of a drought.”

“I say we compromise.”

Adrian kept quiet. It was an unspoken rule that his voice meant the least on the council, being the youngest and all. Decisions like this would fall on the shoulders of the other members with Chancellor Redfield having the final say.

“Lord Marshal,” the chancellor began. “What is the justification of your proposal?”

“The criminal underworld is gaining strength. Eventually, they will become too strong to handle. If that happens the King’s authority will be nonexistent, and it will be anarchy on the streets.”

“Spymaster, what do you have to say about that?”

The sickly pale man next to Adrian spoke, “I fear the Lord Marshal may be exaggerating a bit, but the criminal underworld is certainly gaining power. Their organization has taken up a clan’s name; they call themselves Redclaw. Some nobles are working with them and taking on debt from them making a purge by legal means difficult. For this reason, the only real options are direct assassinations or brute force, as the Marshal suggests.”

He speaks of assassinations and murder as if he were reading items off a menu.

“And not only that,” the Marshal butted in. “My brother discovered a powerful undead that was intelligent and magically adept.”

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Confused murmurs filled the room. Adrian was picturing Dixie’s breasts.

“Quiet all,” the chancellor brought the room to order. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

“I only received word yesterday. I already have a scribe copying the report for you all. To give a brief overview, an Undead drained all his blood somehow. Soon after Sergeant Trory sealed off the barony with both men and magic. They were unsuccessful in luring it out – so an archbishop was called. The holy man found traces of the undead heading out of the barony – yet the [flare] had not gone off. They discovered that the barrier had been disabled.” The councillors started mumbling amongst themselves. “Unless the undead had a witch with it, it is intelligent enough to use magic. If it does have a witch with it, then it’s intelligent enough to communicate.”

“Oi Marshal, isn’t your brother a legendary monster hunter?” Lady Clearwater asked.

“He is, and even he couldn’t catch the thing. That’s why we need to armour up.”

“How many did the undead kill?” Chancellor Redfield was stroking his chin.

“One confirmed kill.”

“If we divert funds from importing food, thousands will die from hunger. Let the local Lords handle this one.”

“There’s one more thing I forgot to mention. The grave the undead rose from…” he paused and looked at the Royal Librarian. “…was Ruringer Clearwater’s.”

“Impossible!” Lady Clearwater hands were shaking. “A lie! It cannot be!”

“That’s what was written in the report – and my brother was never a liar.”

“That might be troublesome.” The Chancellor said. “Word of this cannot get out.”

“Understood,” Spymaster Whitemoss said.

“Tell your brother the same, Marshal.”

“Understood.”

“Also, pick out a number of your best men to hunt this thing down.”

“How many will suffice?”

“Less than a hundred will have to do. We must not alert the populace.”

“As you wish.”

“Lady Clearwater, I want you to dig up everything on Lady Ruringer and Darkspawn that might assist Marshal Bluewater.”

“That will be difficult sir. Ruringer was a disturbed woman who raved on about all sorts of things. I’m afraid we will have to find out more about this thing first.”

“Understandable, work closely with the Marshal regardless. Whitestone, make sure the Marshal has all he needs.”

“Yes, my lord.” Of course, I have to pay for everything. The money in the royal coffers wasn’t his per se, but he treated it with the same care he did his personal finances.

Adrian was the first to see it. Its amorphous form grew from the shadows in the chimney. It took the shape of a great, terrible wolf on two legs. Its glowing yellow eyes scanned about the room until they fixated on the Court Scholar. Somebody let out a shout and the guards came bursting in.

The thing lunged through the air in a great arc at Lady Clearwater. The Marshal stood up and shielded her with his body. Black claws tore through chainmail as Lady Clearwater recited an incantation: [Light of Heaven I beseech thee, slay the vile demon before me!]

The dark beast splattered on the floor, spraying black liquid everywhere. Adrian rushed to the Marshal’s side. He had been flung across the room when the beast struck him. “Sir! Are you alright?”

“I’m fine lad – enchanted armour; I’ve been through worse.”

“This was a powerful beast.” Lady Clearwater was squatting over a puddle of the black ichor. “Whoever summoned it is very powerful. They are also either extremely stupid, or they are luring us into a trap.”

“How do you mean?”

“This beast, a tulpa if I had to guess, was strong, but no enhancing enchantments were cast upon it. That was why a simple spell killed it. Had it been enchanted we would all be torn to shreds.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“I can do you one better, Chancellor.” She scooped some liquid with her index and middle fingers. “I can track the summoner.”

“But there’s a catch, right?”

“It’s probably a trap.”

“We can’t let such a brazen witch roam free any longer than we have to. Marshal, can you fight?”

“Ribs are a bit sore, but I’m your man.”

“Excellent. Gather up that team of yours; you’re going witch-hunting.”