“We've been crossing blades with them for a while now. You clearly aren't fond of them either,” Milea commented.
“Why would I be? The Shadow Hand has been nothing but trouble for the past year. They scour the land doing gods know what to innocent civilians and they make everyday life even more dangerous than it already is. When I refused to aid their cause, they began to kidnap civilians and raid shipments from the other counties well as Ironbarrow.”
“They wanted you to join?” Milea asked.
Conley shook his head. “No, I believe that they wanted to form an alliance with me so they could evade the law better. I also suspect they want to use my armed forces for their own purposes. I've been trying to work under the public's nose to rid the problem, because the last thing Ironbarrow needs is a panic to arise from its people.
“This time I had no choice but to strike directly. Last week they ambushed and kidnapped a group of my men who were returning from Virland. They were last seen near here, so we checked into the rumors in the nearby villages and found out the location of this hideout.”
“We didn't see any other prisoners while here,” Milea commented.
“I did,” Erril said. Everyone turned to her and she continued, “Most of them were dead, but one was barely clinging to life near my cell.”
“Yes, my men have already informed me about the survivor. I am actually going to tend to him once I am finished here. Gods only know what that he's has been through,” Conley said. “In the meantime, rest well my friends. Your journey is only just beginning.”
“What do you mean by that?” Varg asked.
“You are The White Wolf, correct? The white-haired warrior who is famed for his work as a bounty hunter?” Conley asked. Varg nodded, so the Count continued, “I normally don't hire outsiders to carry out my missions, but you know more about these cultists than anyone else I've met, and I will take all the allies I can get in the war against these terrorists. Therefore, I wish to pay you and your friends here for your long term services regarding the Shadow Hand.”
Varg and Milea exchanged glances, and then Varg looked back to the Count and said, “It's a deal. What did you have in mind?”
“I would first like to invite you to accompany my troops back to my castle in Ironbarrow, where you will stay as my guests. Then you can explain everything you know about these cultists so that we may decide on a course of action to take next,” Conley said.
“Very well,” Varg agreed.
He shook hands with Conley again and then the Count added, “My men could use a bit of rest after the day they've had, as I'm sure you lot could too. We will make camp and depart in the morning, so be prepared.”
The Count's troops began their march at the crack of dawn and Varg, Milea, and Erril followed with the crowd. Once the sun had completely risen, it revealed the vast, rocky plains of Ironbarrow's landscape. The wide, open countryside proved a pleasing atmosphere after a daunting mission and unsettling turn of events. The path the troops traveled on had a wall of cliffs, hills and caverns along either side, none of which seemed to obstruct the dense trees that dotted the terrains.
By day's end, the troops assured Varg and the others that Ironbarrow was only a short distance away. When they could finally see the peeks of the Count's castle over the edge of the cliff, Conley halted the march and addressed his men.
“March on men,” he called. “Tonight I extend an invitation for you all to join me in celebration over the over our victory against the Shadow Hand in the Great Hall!”
The crowd of soldiers began cheering with glee at the sound of their gracious host's invitation, and Varg himself couldn't help but cracking a smile at the thought of drinking and relaxing for a change.
They continued their march down the path that stretched from the top of the cliff, wrapped around the land and sloped down to the ground, and led them right to the front gate of the city of Ironbarrow. The guards at the front gates greeted the Count as they opened the enormous and sturdy double doors to allow the troops entrance. The troop rode through Ironbarrow, catching the eyes of everyone they passed. Wives approached their husbands and greeted them while others leaned out of windows to wave at their friends and family. Though he didn't know the feeling, Varg enjoyed seeing the pleasing homecoming.
Varg then set his sights on the town structure itself. The wooden buildings lining the road were lined at the bottom with stone and brick. Varg was not surprised to see such amazing craftsmanship when he came across a large mason's shop around the corner the troop passed. As the castle came into view, Conley led the troops across a drawbridge into a courtyard. Once inside the men began dismounting their steeds and bringing them to the stables. Varg brought his own borrowed stallion as well as Milea's and Erril's to the stable while the latter two followed the crowd to the keep entrance.
Once Varg caught up, Conley addressed turned to them and said, “I bid you welcome to my home, Ironstone Keep.”
The guards then opened the double doors that led to an enormous great hall. Two wooden tables lined up on either side of the room. The tables were both covered with a fantastic feast that beckoned the arriving men with it's rich aroma. A third table sat towards the back and facing the door. This table was obviously meant for Conley and his family, for a throne sat against the back wall just behind the table.
“We feast at once!” Conley bellowed.
The men wasted no time in stealing the closest seat they could at the tables. Their rumps barely touched the benches before their hands grabbed goblets, plates, and food alike.
The Count turned to his guests and said, “I invite the three of you to join me and my wife at my personal dining table.” Conley gestured to the third table and gestured for Varg and company to follow. The seats at this table were not benches, but actual chairs made of carved wood. Conley instructed Varg to take the seat on the left of his own chair, which was larger and more detailed. Milea sat on Varg's left and Erril on her left.
The seats had Varg and the others facing the front entrance and looking down upon the feasting soldiers. Varg recognized the smell of mead before him and reached for a goblet. He gulped half the goblet down in seconds and took a deep, appreciative breath.
“That's the best mead I've tasted in ages,” Varg said.
Conley laughed. “It's always a pleasure to meet a fellow man who appreciates good mead.”
Varg noticed in the corner of his eye that Erril was trying to sneak a taste from a nearby goblet, but before he could stop her, the girl was halted by a lovely dark-haired woman.
The woman gently grabbed Erril's goblet and placed it out of her reach, then said, “I don't believe you are old enough to drink mead, young lady.”
Erril glared at the woman, but conceded and began eating a pheasant leg instead. The woman, who bore a sharp, yet gentle expression, then walked over to Conley.
The Count immediately stood up and said, “Catrina, my love, you made it.” Conley turned to Varg and the others and added, “Varg, Milea, Erril, this is my beloved wife, Lady Catrina Rowan.”
Catrina smiled and said, “It's always a pleasure to meet Conley's guests.”
It was then that Varg recognized Catrina as the dark-haired girl in Lionel's family portrait. It was evident that Milea realized this too, for she met Varg's gaze and offered the same expression. He nodded her way, then the two of them stood up and faced Catrina.
Milea stood before the Lady of the household and, after offering a slight bow, said, “My lady, we need to speak with you and your husband in private.”
Before Catrina could answer, Conley interjected. “Surely this can wait until later? You three deserve a great feast after the battle we had.”
Varg looked to Milea, who nodded, and he turned back to Coley and said, “It can wait.”
Once the introductions were complete, Catrina sat to the right of her husband and Varg and the others happily returned to their dinner.
When the feast was done, the soldiers left the castle and returne
d to the town to see their families. The Count retreated into a room behind his throne, where several servants helped take his armor off. Once he was dressed comfortably, Conley then invited Varg, Milea, and Erril to his study to discuss the events leading up to the incident at the Shadow Hand' hideout. Catrina joined them as requested by Varg an Milea.
“What is this all about?” Catrina asked once they were alone.
“I believe it's best to start with what we wanted to tell you, Lady Catrina,” Milea said.
“What is it?” Catrina pressed.
Varg cleared his throat, took a deep breath, then asked, “Are you the daughter of Count Lionel Lerington?”
Catrina seemed taken aback, surprised that he knew such information, but she collected herself and answered, “Yes, I am, but what does my father have to do with those cultists?”
“We believe your father was investigating the Shadow Hand,” Milea explained.
“How odd, he never mentioned them to me,” Conley said. “I actually warned him about them in case they approached him too.”
“It seems they did, and he refused to cooperate with them. The Shadow Hand didn't take kindly to it,” Varg answered.
“What are you trying to say?” Catrina pressed.
Varg took a deep breath, then answered, “I'm sorry, but your father is dead.”
To his surprise, Catrina initially showed little to no reaction to the news. Despite the noblewoman's desperate attempt to remain graceful and composed, however, the grief settled on her shoulders and her tears came pouring out with no warning. “No . . . no . . . no!”
Catrina fell to the floor and sobbed. Being the doting husband he was, Conley quickly knelt beside his wife and wrapped his arms around her. Her tears stained his vest and though Though Varg managed to keep his composure, the image of Catrina's grief struck him right to the core.
Once Catrina was pacified for the time being, she stood and continued to lean against her husband's shoulder.
Conley held her close, and began muttering, “Why didn't he tell me the Shadow Hand was after him? I could have helped him.”
“He probably thought involving you would only put you and Catrina in danger,” Milea offered.
“How did this happen?” Conley pressed.
“He discovered too many of their secrets, so the cultists had to get rid of him before he could tell anyone,” Varg said. He thought it wise not to tell them about Greenwood, since they probably wouldn't believe that a fellow nobleman would get involved with a cult, much less kill for them.
“How did you two get involved?” Conley asked.
Damn, Varg thought. He wanted to offer the truth, but he knew that the truth could seem too farfetched for the nobles to believe.
Milea thankfully chimed in before the nobles became suspicious. “We happened upon the whole incident completely by accident, actually, Varg and I discovered Lord Lerington's body in a cavern during a job. We investigated his murder only to become targets ourselves. First we searched his keep in Virland for clues and we found his journal. It was written in Elvish, but I was able to translate his notes and discovered an entry that eventually led us to the stronghold near Wild Valley. Erril lived in the woods near Wild Valley and the Shadow Hand kidnapped her, so we sneaked into the stronghold to find her. Unfortunately, we walked right into an ambush and would have been killed if not for the efforts of the Count and his men.”
Varg was impressed at how quickly and calmly Milea was able to answer Conley's question without a single lie, yet without revealing anything that could incriminate them.
“I see,” the Count answered.
Catrina straightened her demeanor and calmly asked, “What became of my father's remains?”
“My apologies Milady, but we were unable to obtain them,” Milea ruefully answered.
Catrina swallowed hard. “Was he properly tended to at least?”
“I believe so,” Milea assured.
“Lionel will be missed dearly,” Conley said. He then raised his goblet and added, “Tonight, I drink in his honor.”
Conley took one long gulp of wine, then he continued, “Well then, Lionel wouldn't want us to fret over him, he would want us to continue his work against the Shadow Hand. That is why I want to hire the three of you to continue the investigation and bring those responsible for his death to justice.”
“You mentioned his journal before, Milea?” Catrina asked.
Milea nodded. “While I found no mention of his family in the entries, I do believe that based on the way he wrote that he left the journal for someone to find. Was it you, perhaps?”
“I never understood Elvish, so I doubt it was intended for me. He probably left it for Oliva,” Catrina explained.
“Your sister?” Varg asked.
“How did you know I had a sister?” Catrina asked. Once Varg explained the family portrait they found in Lerington's study, she answered, “Oliva is my niece; her mother was my sister. She went to live with her grandfather after her parents died from an illness, but now she stays in Balik at the Academy of Arcane Arts. The poor dear probably hasn't even heard the news.”
“I also worry about her safety now that Lionel was killed. What if the Serpent knows about her?” Conley mentioned.
“You're right. I fear what would happen if she were to return home to find those cultists waiting for her,” Catrina said dreadfully.
“What's left of her home,” Varg muttered, which earned a swift elbow jab to the ribs from Milea.
Fortunately, neither of the nobles heard the remark, for the Count then continued, “Lionel's birthday was supposed to be in the next few weeks, so Oliva will more than likely be leaving school soon to visit him.”
Milea raised an eyebrow. “She could just leave school?”
“Indeed. The Academy is not like other schools where you have to stay for a set period of time and finish your studies accordingly. Students of the Academy come and go as they please until their studies are done. It makes it easier for students to work at their own pace and have a better chance of succeeding,” Conley explained.
“You're certain Oliva will be leaving Balik soon?” Milea asked.
“Absolutely,” Catrina answered. “Oliva is a very dedicated student, but family is first and foremost. She never would have missed her grandfather's birthday.
“Then we need to get word to her before she leaves Balik,” Varg said.
“You're right,” Catrina replied. Then she addressed her husband. “Should we get some of your soldiers together to escort her here?”
“No, it would only draw attention to her if I send a small armada,” Conley reasoned. “I believe this is the perfect job for our friends here. Varg and the others can get into Balik and escort Oliva to Ironbarrow without placing her in more danger.”
“Oliva would never leave school with total strangers unless she had proof of their intentions. You should give them a letter to present to Oliva so she knows they are trustworthy,” Catrina replied.
“You're right, Love.” Conley returned his attention to Varg and said, “Can the three of you be ready to leave by tomorrow?”
“I have no objections,” Varg said.
“Nor I,” Milea concurred.
“Same with me,” Erril chimed in.
Catrina blinked and stared at the girl before she said, “You are but a child. I could never allow you to put yourself in such danger.”
“Who said you could stop me?” Erril retorted.
“My love, I have seen Erril's skills with my own I and I assure you she will be all right,” Conley promised.
“Then you should have armor fashioned for her. I can't stand the thought of a child getting hurt on my watch,” Catrina offered.
“Don't worry, I planned to supply everything they need for this journey,” Conley assured.
Catrina nodded and turned to her guests. Then she said, “The three of you are welcome to stay in the castle for the night.”
“Thank you for your hosp
itality, Lady Rowan,” Milea said humbly.
“Please dear, call me Catrina,” the noblewoman answered.
“As you wish,” Milea conceded.
“I will have the servants prepare a guest room for each of you,” Catrina said with a nod. She then took her leave while Conley poured Varg and Milea each another cup of mead. Catrina returned a short while later and led them to each a room on the next floor. After Catrina opened the door to Varg's room, he gave his thanks to the noblewoman and stepped inside.
A warm bath welcomed him in the corner of the room. After he closed the door, he stripped and stepped into the hot water for the most relaxing bath he'd had in years. At least not alone, he thought with a smile. When he emerged from the water, he dried off with the towel on the little table beside him. Then, he donned only his trousers and sat on the bed.
After sitting in silent contemplation for a few minutes, Varg finally blew out the candle next to his bed and readied for sleep. It didn't take long for Varg to pass out from exhaustion after he finally lay his head upon the pillow and covered his body with the silky sheets. In his dreams he experienced a familiar dream, but one that haunted him all the same.
Varg released his lips from Treasa's kiss only to whisper, “Are you sure you don't want to just elope?”
Treasa shook her head. “I could never get married without the blessing of my parents, even if it's with you.”
Treasa's parents never approved of her relationship with Varg. He was just a drifter, as her father had said, with no home or money to support a wife, much less a family. Treasa was heartbroken, but ultimately decided to keep seeing Varg in secret. After they started becoming more intimate, the strain of sneaking around took its toll. They brazenly tried to make love during the day and as a result, they were caught in the act by Treasa's father.
At first he was angry, but he kept under control so as not to alert the rest of the village of his daughter's affair. Once he calmed down, her father took Varg and Treasa aside and had a long talk with them. The initial conversation was nothing more than judgment and criticism of Treasa's immoral behavior—he didn't seem surprised that a less desirable person like Varg would resort to carnal relations out of wedlock. However, her father surprised them; because Treasa was no longer a virgin, she would not be able to marry a man from a good family as her father had planned. He therefore decided that the lovers would have his blessing only if Varg could earn the money to provide a better life for Treasa than he could.
The White Wolf (Half-Breed Book 1) Page 10