My first course of action after leaving was, of course, to slip off and change out of my mask. I hadn’t planned to create my new Balor persona, per se, but I had planned to do SOMETHING with the mask, so I had a spot to stash it where it was unlikely to be found. After that, I met up with Esther, thanking her for making the arrangements, and then headed out to make my way back to the camp…only to stop short as I ran into a familiar face.
Bennett. The guard who had directed me to Esther’s place, and one she apparently didn’t like much. I hadn’t seen him in a while, but I hadn’t forgotten the strange interaction with the man either. He was waiting for me outside the inn.
I’d learned that he wasn’t usually there. That first day had been an anomaly, and one I hadn’t seen repeated until now. “Evening,” he said cheerfully. “You have a moment to spare for an old guard?” His tone was jovial and his smile was warm, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Every time I’d seen him, he had those same icy, calculating eyes. Like I was looking through a window into an arctic tundra. Empty and frozen, and deadlier for it.
“Bennett,” I greeted him. “Right? We met my first night here.”
“We DID,” he confirmed. “Been a while. You’ve made quite a splash around these parts, haven’t you? Met all sorts of interesting people. The Lord has been keeping an eye out, and he is FASCINATED by you. He was hoping you might be free this evening and willing to join him for a meal?”
Based on the feeling I was getting from this guy, I was betting the lord wasn’t hoping, didn’t care if I was free, and wasn’t interested in how willing I was. This wasn’t an invitation, it was a summons.
Of course, I didn’t acknowledge that. Hospitality was a double edged sword. If I acted like a guest I would most likely be treated like a guest. It wouldn’t protect me if I was actively disrespectful, but I’d learned a lot working for Esther, and the biggest thing was how seriously people here took guest rights.
“That sounds lovely,” I said with a warm smile. “I don’t suppose I could trouble you to show me the way? I’m afraid I haven’t had a chance to take in the sights much outside here and the shopping district. Well, and the stables.”
“Of course,” He chuckled, “Follow me.” He gestured for me to trail behind him, and I noted that the backs of his hands were marked with familiar looking designs. Not ones I recognized, of course, but designs that were obviously part of the same lexicon as the one on my back. Both hands marked meant he was past a beginner mana body. I didn’t think me seeing those was an accident, either. He wanted me to know how strong he was.
I used my analysis on the patterns, but by the time I had the thought he’d managed to casually recover them with gloves. I cursed mentally, that had been a good chance to learn more about him.
“So, the Lord,” I said as we walked. “Tell me more about him?”
He nodded. “Lord Farris Worther. A distant member of a great house. Lord Farris was given the honor of commanding this holding as a test of his worthiness for further responsibility. His family has high hopes for him.”
Maybe. But I was more inclined to believe he was an embarrassment they wanted out of the way. Esther had nothing to say about the man, and Esther only didn’t say anything when she had nothing nice to say. She was a fan of gossip, but usually only the friendly kind. And she NEVER talked bad about the local administration. Not in a respectful way, but in an oppressive, stifled way that had me convinced she was afraid of them.
I was not predisposed to liking the Lord, whatever Bennett said. Hell, I wasn’t predisposed to liking Bennett. “So, how long have you worked for him?”
That drew a chuckle from the friendly seeming man. “Oh, it must be nigh on ten years at this point. I was hired to watch over him when he was just a lad. I had an arrangement with his late father, rest his soul. His father Albert was the younger brother of the current Duke Worther. He had an incident with some bandits, and the Duke took in his young nephew as a ward.”
“And he hired you as a guard?” I asked with interest. “You must be impressive.”
“I have my virtues,” he said idly. “Though I’m not as impressive as all that. The young Lord has never been…ambitious, in the way most nobles his age are. The requirements for my position aren’t as demanding as you may expect.”
Which I took to mean the Lord was weak and didn’t need a powerful guard. We spoke like that for a while, walking along the street and exchanging words that had either no meaning or far too much (and sometimes somehow both) until we eventually came to a stop at the foot of a cliff. I looked around, wondering if he’d lured me out here to kill me. That hadn’t occurred to me, but I prepared to try my best (and probably fail) to escape.
Rather than attack, however, he turned to the sheer rock wall of the cliff, reaching out to tap a few spots. There was a slow ripple and, before my eyes, the stone melted away to reveal a steep, thin trail.
Bennett winked at me. “I thought you might like some privacy, so I brought you the back way.”
Which I took to mean ‘the Lord doesn’t want anyone knowing you were here because he’s got a job for you’. Which wasn’t ideal, but definitely could have been worse. “After you,” he said graciously, gesturing me up the trail in a sort of half bow that made sure his eyes never left me.
I took his advice, mostly because I was SURE this man could kill me as easily as blinking if he wanted to, and I knew that walking in front of him didn’t actually make me any less safe. I stepped onto the path, beginning my climb, and I grimaced at the feeling of unsteadiness from the loose gravel below my feet. The path was coated in crushed up rocks, and it made my footing unsteady and worrying.
To ensure I could keep my balance, I bent my knees slightly, lowering my center of gravity, and sort of…felt with my soles. There was a kind of equilibrium you could only really reach through carefully feeling the ground under your feet, and I did my best to maintain it.
I failed. I slipped at least four times, with Bennett taking the opportunity to catch me and jokingly remind me to watch my step. I noted that every time he steadied me, his hand landed on a part of my body that was vulnerable in some way, like he was demonstrating how easily he would be able to kill me.
By the time we reached the top of the trail, my spine was so tense I was worried I might pull a muscle in my back from the stiffness. I forced myself to relax though, because I knew I needed to be in top form for this meeting.
As we emerged from the trail, we came out into a bank of thick mist. Bennett didn’t wait for me to lead this time, he stepped past me and strode off into the fog, expecting me to follow. Which of course I did. I didn’t want to know what happened to people who got lost up here, because I got the strong impression whatever it was wouldn’t be enjoyable at all.
The fog was too thick…too clinging. It smacked of some kind of defensive magic. I didn’t know what those kinds of arts were capable of, but I was betting ‘make fog’ was on that list, and that the Lord had someone on staff whose job it was to make sure no one unexpected took this back way up. I made a note.
Finally, we stepped out of the fog, arriving at the edge of a large paved courtyard. In the center of the courtyard, surrounded by banks of fog, was a squat, intimidating stone building.
In fantasy stories, and in movies, castles come in a few different styles. There are fairy tale castles designed to look majestic, royal castles designed to impress (there was overlap but they weren’t always the same), and industrial castles meant to be lived in and attended by a lot of people.
This place was none of those. This was a FORTRESS. The castle in front of me was a squat, ugly, practical thing. Whoever had designed it had carved it from the stone of the mountain itself, setting it into the ground to provide stability. The walls were sheer and almost completely smooth, with lots of thin windows that would make firing arrows (or magic) out of them simple, but would make firing BACK almost impossible.
“Welcome,” Bennett said casually. “To Mistpeak.”
“Good name,” I said dryly. “Very descriptive.” he chuckled at that, and this one sounded almost genuine. “Is the other entrance this majestic?” I avoided the word ‘creepy’ though I was sure he heard it even though I didn’t say it.
His smile looked eerie in the dim light coming through the surrounding fog. It cast strange shadows across his features, elongating his smile into something almost monstrous…or maybe I was letting the ambiance get to me a bit too much here. “The front entrance is somewhat more welcoming,” he admitted. “But much less secure. This place is completely isolated from any outside perception. Why, you could scream for hours up here and no one would hear a sound.”
Lovely. I was deeply regretting coming up here. The only reason I’d agreed was that I was mostly positive Bennett could have forced me, if not just killed me in the street for refusing. But the longer I spent in this misty creepshow of a courtyard, the less I felt secure in my logic for why this was a good idea.
We strode forward toward the castle, heading out of the mist and towards a low wall of brambles separating the external courtyard from the sheer walls. Between the brambles and the walls, a strip of dark soil was planted with ominous looking plants of a twisted and dreadful appearance. Analysis told me they were all mana plants, though not much more than that. They were too high level for me to get a grip on.
He led me between the brambles, bringing me to a large, thick door of black wood. He pounded on it a few times and there was a thump as someone removed a wooden beam to admit us. As the door opened, a tall, gaunt man with white hair gestured us inside, looking around outside the door as he did, as if expecting an ambush.
Once we were inside he slammed and barred the door. “Bennett,” he said shortly.
“Saunders,” Bennett responded. “Is the Lord ready to receive his guest?”
“He is,” the man confirmed. “He awaits your company in the dining room. The meal has only just been served, your timing is impeccable.” He turned to look at me coldly. “May I take your cloak, sir?” His voice made it clear that the answer had better be no, and so I declined, earning a sneer of what might have been grudging approval…or possibly an upset stomach.
Saunders led us down the hall to a dimly lit room with a partially open door. A fireplace blazed inside, heating the stone around us to almost scalding temperatures and casting the room in unsettling, flickering light. We stopped outside and waited. Finally, after a moment of silence, a voice echoed from inside. “Enter,” said the Lord, and with a long, slow breath to prepare…I did.