A stiff, early autumn breeze cut across the rolling hills north of the city of Raine in the middle of the Kingdom of Tyrsiln. It drummed against walls of the tents pitched on a line of high hills to the northeast of the city.

The city below straddled the Erlenz River that wound its way north towards the coast. It was a large city, serving both as a major trading hub and the kingdom’s capital. Its outlying farms spread for several miles outside its high walls. The vantage point on the hill provided a good view of the city. The river divided the walled city roughly in half. Docks for river traffic headed to the North Sea occupied part of the west bank, only a short distance north of the Rose Bridge that connected the halves of the city. Further south, the palace sat on an island in the river, and docks for ferries and river traffic dotted both banks further upriver. The university was barely visible a short distance south of the main city.

Erik Vespin stood on the crest of that hill while the ten men with him finished their breakfast, broke down the camp, and got the horses ready. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and an otherwise lean, athletic frame built from years of fighting in heavy armor. His black hair hung loosely to his shoulders, his blue eyes were hard as agates, and his half-elven heritage showed more in his somewhat pale complexion than his lean, angular features. He was plainly dressed, having decided to forego his armor and surcoat. Even the sword belted around his waist was purely functional. The only things that stood out in his dress were the gilded spurs at his heels and the gold-buckled garter of an officer of the Knights of the Order of the Hunt.

Erik felt a strange chill as he stared out over the city, though the weather had not yet turned cold. It seemed to carry a tense feeling of wrongness to his eyes, like the calm before a storm. He absently wondered what was important enough that Queen Estrid had requested his return to the city. They had agreed that he would return to Drassen before his departure for the Hold. The siege at the Hold had dragged on for nearly a year, though, and Erik realized that much could change in that time. Her letter had been uncharacteristically vague, lacking any explanation why she wanted him in Raine. She was withholding a great deal from him, and that fact, more than anything, was the source of his unease. Queen Estrid rarely held secrets from him. On the occasion that she did, it meant that something was very wrong.

Erik was pulled from his quiet brooding by the sound of mailled footsteps behind him. The knight who approached was a hard, lean-faced man in his fifties with silver-shot black hair which he kept knotted at the base of his skull. He held a pair of steaming tin teacups in his hand and offered one of the cups to Erik. “Be careful, my lord,” he cautioned. “It’s hot.”

Erik nodded silently and put his gloves on before taking the cup. “Thank you, Siegler,” he replied to the older knight.

Siegler inclined his head. “The others are about finished with breakfast and getting their horses saddled,” he reported. “The tents are already put away with the packhorses. Rolph says the weather should hold fair for the next few days, at least.”

Erik nodded. He turned back to the city and sipped lightly on the strong, black tea.

“Get enough sleep finally,” Siegler asked.

“I’m sleeping fine.”

“Well, the others all say you keep checking on the watch. Last I looked, that’s not sleeping.”

Erik looked back over his shoulder at the grizzled veteran.

Siegler sighed. “I know that look, Erik,” he said.

Erik shook his head. “Something is wrong here, Siegler,” he sighed. “The closer I get to Raine, the more I can feel it. Something is happening down there. I have nothing to go on but rumors. I don’t know what’s happening in front of me, and you know how much I hate that.”

Siegler nodded and took a long sip of his tea. “She is your queen,” he reminded Erik. “She says what she deems fit.”

“I know, but this isn’t like her,” Erik grumbled. “I would at least prefer reports. It’s not like I can send you or Rolph to lead some scouts to find out what’s going on. I have to walk blindly ahead, and not even Marie knows why Queen Estrid called me back here.”

Siegler shifted slightly. “I’m sure she has a good reason for it,” he said. “Her majesty doesn’t usually do things without one.”

Erik turned back to the city. “I wonder if she realizes that she borrowed my spymaster for a courier,” he mused.

Siegler shrugged. “Probably not,” he replied.

“Where is Marie, by the way?”

“She rode into the city when we set up camp yesterday. She said she’d meet you at your home tonight after she’s had some time to nose around.”

Erik nodded. “Hopefully, she’ll have more for me then,” he said, drained his tea, and settled his cloak and hood over his shoulders. “Now let’s get on the road before it gets too late.”

One of Erik’s captains strode over while they were mounting their horses. The blonde captain was tall and heavily muscled, having ascended into knighthood from being the son of a blacksmith. Despite his lowly birth and being younger than many of the hard-bitten veterans in his command, his ferocity, quick thinking, and natural leadership had won him the respect of the men.

“I bet I know why her majesty wants us back in the city,” the captain announced in an oratory voice made to carry more to the other nine knights with them than to Erik. “Her majesty wishes us to guard another emissary of some importance, of course.”

Erik looked at the young knight and raised an eyebrow. “Is that so, Rolph,” he asked.

“It’s so obvious. We are, after all, the best. We’re damned near invincible,” Rolph said lightly, then he shook his head and let out an exaggerated sigh. “I, however, am not looking forward to it.”

“And why is that,” a big knight asked as he swung into his saddle. The man had brown hair and eyes, and the white wolf banner of House Vespin was planted in the dirt next to his horse. “None of us has balked at her majesty’s commands before.”

Rolph’s face took on a mortified expression. “Why, Bernhard,” he exclaimed. “You mean you don’t remember the last one?”

Bernhard rolled his eyes as he took up the banner and braced the staff holding it in his stirrup.

“As I remember, she declared her undying love for you about once a week,” a shaggy, sandy-haired knight replied with a wide grin.

“Indeed, she did, Killian,” Rolph declared. “She pursued me constantly! I lost count of the number of times she tried to corner me in some alcove. And, telling her that I harbored no such feelings toward her in return only seemed to make matters worse. She dogged me endlessly, instead. I had to seek refuge with an innkeeper’s daughter in the city.”

A wave of laughter rippled through the knights settling into their saddles.

Rolph feigned a sound of profound hurt before making some show of shaking off their laughter. “Of course, even that wasn’t enough,” he continued. “Somehow, she found out where I was and had the watch drag me to her chambers like a common criminal. Thankfully, Erik and Knight-Commander Gherald showed up to bail me out, else only the Almighty knows what plans she had in store for me!”

A blonde knight the same age as Erik doubled over laughing. “As I remember, you jumped out of a top floor window when the innkeeper caught you kissing his daughter,” he told Rolph. “The watch picked you up several streets over.”

Rolph waved that away. “I remember it quite differently, Wilfred,” he replied dismissively.

The knights’ laughter subsided, but they were still grinning and shaking their heads. Rolph winked slyly at Erik. Between them, Rolph and Marie had managed to relieve much of the tension that had plagued the men on the road.

Erik chuckled as he swung into his saddle. His big, black warhorse flicked an ear and snorted. Erik had won the elven-bred mount in a prolonged contest of wits almost five years ago and shared an unusual bond with his horse. He knew that his horse could sense his restlessness and roughed his horse’s mane. “I’m fine, Anfa,” he assured the horse in Elvish.

Anfa looked back at Erik, then shook his head.

“What have I told you about sarcasm,” Erik grumbled.

Anfa snorted again.

Erik looked around, making one last survey of the men. Once satisfied, he gathered his reins and led the way toward the city at a trot.

They reached the north gate as the church bells rang the call to morning services. Erik slowed to a walk as he approached the sergeant who led the watchmen at the city gate. After a brief exchange, Erik led the men into the sparsely crowded city street. His captains fanned out behind him, and the few people about cleared the road for them.

Some people stared after them before quickly returning to whatever business they had been about. The quiet lack of response from the crowds came as no surprise to Erik, and he was somewhat relieved that they were coming to Raine instead of returning to Drassen. Their path through the city led past the Stone, and Erik halted at a boulevard that ran parallel to the north wall of the fortress. Siegler pulled his horse in next to Erik, joined by one of the other knights, a lean man whose wiry frame hid an incredible strength. “Are you going straight to the palace, my lord” the lean knight asked.

Erik nodded. “No, Sir Armin,” he replied. “I need to go to the Stone first and see if Gherald is there.”

“Do you want one of us to accompany you?”

Erik shook his head. “I’ll go alone,” he replied. “See that the men and horses are fed.”

Armin inclined his head.

Erik turned to Siegler. “Sir Siegler, make sure Alwin knows I’ll be going to the Stone and the Palace,” he told the older knight. “I’ll need to speak with him when I get home. I don’t know how long I’ll be out, but you know what to do if you haven’t heard from me by nightfall.”

Siegler snapped a crisp salute. The old knight barked a crisp order and led the knights the rest of the way through the city.

Erik waited for a group of brown-robed monks to shuffle past before turning his horse onto the street. The road by the Stone was clear, so Erik allowed Anfa to break into a rolling trot. He slowed as he turned down the side street where a path leading to the gates connected. A few people watched and shook their heads as Erik turned down the path. He pushed his hood back from his head and approached at a slow walk.

The Stone served as barracks and offices for the Knights of the Order of the Hunt, and it contained holding cells for prisoners awaiting trial. It was surrounded by a high wall and a deep fosse, and the silver falcon banner of the Order hung from the imposing gatehouse. The drawbridge was lowered, and two Hunters stood guard outside on horseback. One gathered his reins and trotted forward to meet Erik halfway. “Goodman,” he addressed Erik as he reined in.

Erik raised an eyebrow as he reined in.

The Hunter who had stayed at his post was trying to cover a smile with his hand.

The Hunter who had ridden forward grimaced at Erik’s spurs. “Sir knight, that is,” he continued as if he hadn’t made any mistake. “The Order is not accepting recruits or entertaining visitors today. An announcement will be made if that changes.”

“Hello to you, too, Hunter,” Erik said lightly. “I’m well and intact, thank you for asking.”

The Hunter blinked and leaned in his saddle to be able to see Erik’s left leg. Then he snapped a crisp salute. The other Hunter doubled over in helpless laughter. “Knight-Captain,” the Hunter said. “Forgive me, my lord, I didn’t recognize you.”

Erik sighed as he returned the Hunter’s salute. “I don’t look that much different. One moment please,” Erik replied before he turned to the other Hunter and barked, “Hunter!”

The other Hunter seemed to recall his discipline and saluted.

Erik turned back to the Hunter. “Either way, I’m not your Knight-Captain anymore,” he said. “I’m only obliged to wear it since her majesty called me back to the city.”

The Hunter grimaced. “Her majesty never notified us that you were no longer our Knight-Captain,” he told Erik. “I believe you’ll want to take that up with her, though. Knight-Commander Gherald should be in your old office.”

Erik nodded and motioned for the Hunter to lead the way. “What’s going on here,” he asked as they walked to the drawbridge.

The Hunter shifted uneasily in his saddle. “I mean no disrespect, Knight-Captain,” he said in a concerned voice. “But, I think it’s best if you let her majesty and the Knight-Commander explain the situation to you.”

“What’s wrong with her majesty?”

“It’s not the queen.”

A sinking feeling settled in the pit of Erik’s stomach. “What’s wrong with the princess,” he demanded.

“My lord, we all know Princess Anna’s lungs have never been strong, and this illness,” the Hunter began and cut off abruptly. “Look, I’ve said more than I should already. Just, be careful if you go to the palace. Her majesty’s Royal Council has become a pack of wild dogs of late. Watch your back and don’t let on that I’ve told you anything.”

Erik turned his horse to cross the drawbridge.

“And, Knight-Captain?”

“What is it, Hunter?”

“Welcome back.”

Erik inclined his head. “Thank you, Hunter,” he said sincerely and nudged Anfa into a trot across the drawbridge.

The barracks and stables of the Stone were built into the walls of the surrounding structure, providing a large enough courtyard for training and practice. A smithy had been built next to the stables, and the blacksmith stepped out as Erik was hitching his horse to a post outside the stables. The man glanced at the garter on Erik’s leg and bowed. “Here to get your horse shod, Knight-Captain,” he asked.

Erik shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he replied. “Could you check while I’m inside, though? I think his right front might be getting thin.”

“I can do that, Knight-Captain.”

“Thank you, goodman,” Erik said and turned to speak to Anfa in Elvish. “Let him check your hooves, and no games.”

Anfa stared flatly at Erik for a moment and sighed.

The smith chuckled and set about checking Anfa’s hooves while Erik strode to the entrance to the barracks. Most of the main floor was dedicated to a large hall for the Hunters. It was filled with tables and benches, and almost half were already full. Erik made his way through the hall to the stairs near the back that led up to the administrative offices upstairs.

The noise from the hall died down as Erik reached the top of the stairs. He strode down the hallway, passing the smaller offices of the Knights-Lieutenant, and stepped out into a large room. At the far side of the room, a black shield emblazoned with the silver falcon of the Knights of the Order of the Hunt hung from a dark-stained door. The room was filled with desks for the clerks who managed reports and kept records for the Order. Erik approached the head clerk’s desk by the office. “Is the Knight-Commander still in his office, Miss Gesche,” he asked.

The dark-haired clerk looked up at Erik and blinked. She was exceptionally young for a head clerk, and nobody knew whether that was an effect of genius or being the only one willing to take the job. “Knight-Captain,” she said incredulously. “You let your hair grow.”

Erik shrugged. “We were pressed for time,” he replied in a slightly amused tone. “The Knight-Commander?”

Gesche blushed. “Oh, yes–ah–right,” she stammered quickly. “Yes, he’s in your office. I should warn you that he’s been a bit cross today.”

Erik raised an eyebrow. “That’s not unusual,” he drawled.

“Well, more cross than normal.”

Erik nodded and started to leave.

“Welcome back, Knight-Captain,” Gesche said. “Should I send for tea?”

“Thank you, but no. I won’t be staying long.”

“Understood. There are Hunters and Guardsmen deployed to the Ravenswald under the command of Knight-Lieutenant Johannes, and to Landshut under Knight-Lieutenant Alois. Knight-Lieutenant Jachin is away on a hunting trip. I’m sure Knight-Commander Gherald will have more details for you.”

“Thank you, Gesche,” Erik replied, then stepped past the desk to the door and knocked.

“Enter,” a gravelly voice called almost absently.

Erik stepped into the room and found it much as he had left it. The room was small and largely unadorned except for the tattered banner hanging on one wall that had come from the battle which had secured the Hunters’ existence a century ago. Shelves and cabinets lined the walls, containing The Annals of the Hunt. The Annals chronicled the deeds of various Hunters of note, along with dossiers of every knight in the Order’s history, past reports, and anything else that had piqued the Order’s interest. A powerfully built man in his late fifties stood from the desk in the middle of the room. He had iron-gray hair and penetrating green eyes, and he seemed to carry none of the infirmities of his age. “Finally,” he told Erik and extended his hand.

Erik clasped Gherald’s hand. “It’s good to see you, too,” he replied mildly. “How are Victor and Vilmund?”

Victor and Vilmund were Gherald’s twin sons who had followed their father’s footsteps to become Hunters. The old Hunter snorted. “Unbearable as usual,” he replied shortly as he stepped around the desk toward a low cabinet. “How was the siege?”

“Unbearable as usual,” Erik mimicked jokingly.

Gherald grinned broadly and clapped Erik on the shoulder with a blow that may well have sent a lesser man reeling. “Have you seen the queen, yet,” he asked.

Erik shook his head. “Not yet,” he replied. “I needed to talk to you first.”

Gherald set a pair of glasses down on the desk and poured wine. “I figured you would,” he said as he handed one of them to Erik. “What did you need?”

Erik stepped around the desk, took his old seat, and propped his feet up on the desk. “Lord, I’m exhausted,” he sighed. “I take it there’s a reason that Gesche and the men at the gate still insist on calling me Knight-Captain.”

“Well, old habits certainly seem to die hard for you for starters,” Gherald pointed out as he sat across from Erik.

Erik tilted his head to the side, and then realized where he was sitting with a grimace.

“Besides,” Gherald continued. “Her majesty needs something from you that requires you to act as Knight-Captain of the Order, and not as a knight of the realm.”

“That being?”

“The crown princess is very ill, Erik.”

Erik raised an eyebrow. “I’m not exactly known for my skills as a physician, Gherald,” he drawled.

Gherald leaned back in his chair. “It’s a delicate situation,” he replied. “Anna’s physicians have largely given up hope, and her majesty is beginning to prepare for the worst.”

Erik pinched the bridge of his nose. “That would mean the loss of all three of her majesty’s daughters,” he sighed. “There would be no hope for the throne if Anna dies, too.”

“So much for our kingdom’s miracle child.”

“How is her majesty holding up?”

“It was some saving grace that her majesty was not present when her two eldest daughters were murdered. Watching her youngest child suffer is,” Gherald trailed off with a sigh. “We’re keeping an eye on her.”

Erik nodded. “I take it I’m going to have to get everything else from her majesty,” he remarked.

Gherald grunted. “I’ve told you all that I’m allowed to,” he replied glumly.

Erik nursed his wine for a moment. “I have a feeling you know what she wants,” he said.

“I know exactly what she wants. I’m just not allowed to tell you yet.”

“I understand that Alois and Johannes were dispatched. What happened?”

“There have been bandit raids around Landshut and the Ravenswald. Landshut doesn’t seem to be anything too serious, but the Ravenswald is another matter. We sent Johannes and his company with a full complement of Guardsmen. The bandits there seem unusually well-equipped and disciplined. Her majesty has dispatched emissaries to his Imperial Majesty, Frederick the First, to find out if he’s had a hand in it. We don’t think Frederick is playing at anything, but her majesty wants to be sure.”

Erik sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s entirely possible that Emperor Frederick is playing games and simply doesn’t remember which game he’s playing,” he grumbled. “He’s already outlived his two eldest sons, his youngest son is almost fifty, and his memory was clearly slipping last I saw him.”

Gherald shook his head. “The last time you saw Emperor Frederick was four years ago,” he reminded Erik.

“Even then, he had to be reminded why he was there rather frequently. Either he was already slipping, or he is very good at playing the part. I’d have my eyes on his grandson, Prince Ewald.”

Gherald stood and paced for a moment, considering what Erik was saying. “Maybe trying to pick up support among the Imperial palatines,” he guessed, then sighed. “Then again, I suppose it wouldn’t take that much to convince the Aufenbachs that you and her majesty negotiated in bad faith with Frederick and Wenceslas.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“I’ll talk to the queen about it.”

“Gesche mentioned that Jachin went on a hunting trip.”

“Yes. Jachin is out hunting a disgraced lordling. Last we heard, he’d picked up the trail in southern Verania, but that was a couple of months ago.”

Erik held up a hand to stop Gherald. “What did the lord do,” he asked.

“Murder. There had been a bit of a longstanding dispute between the lordling and his twin brother over their inheritance. It seems they decided to fight it out. The loser didn’t take the outcome well and ambushed his brother.”

Erik shook his head. “What am I walking into,” he asked.

“The Baronial Court is already holding meetings, but that’s to be expected,” Gherald answered and shook his head. “The Royal Council is much as you left it, except for Gaebril Brandt. He’s been going through a lot of effort to keep his nose clean, and it was a welcome relief at first. We’re getting a bit concerned, though.”

“Why is that?”

“Lately, he’s been acting like he’s afraid of his own sister for some reason.”

“That’s odd.”

“Very. We’ve even gotten a few tips in his handwriting slipped under the door to our office in the palace. Conrad thinks he may want our help with something but doesn’t know how to ask.”

Erik snorted. “That makes no sense,” he grumbled.

Gherald shrugged. “We’re keeping an eye on it,” he replied. “The Baronial Court has called a meeting for tomorrow, which I’m sure her majesty will want to talk to you about. There aren’t enough of them in the city to move anything important forward, though. The real concern is that someone is keeping a step ahead of us, somehow.”

“You mean there’s a leak somewhere.”

“We lost a courier a few weeks ago, when nobody should have known what he was about,” Gherald growled. “On top of that, we intercepted someone in the city carrying letters that detailed meetings that only a few people were privy to. That was about a week ago. I set people to watching everyone involved, and nothing.”

Erik drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “Magic, perhaps,” he speculated.

Gherald shook his head. “Patryk’s at his wits’ end on that,” he grumbled. “And I’m at my wits’ end on the possibility of a spy.”

Erik shook his head and stood. “We should see the queen,” he told Gherald. “I’m sure she knows I’m back already.”

Gherald nodded and walked with Erik from the room, pausing only to lock the door. “I’ll ride with you to the palace,” he told Erik. “We can grab something to eat on the way.”

Gesche stood and curtsied as the two men walked past. “Shall I accompany you, Knight-Captain,” she asked Erik.

Erik shook his head. “Not this time, Gesche,” he replied.

Gesche inclined her head and returned to her seat.

Erik walked with Gherald out to the courtyard, and the older knight stepped into the stables to retrieve his horse. The smith stood leaning against the stable and bowed when Erik started unhitching Anfa. “Your horse should be fine for a few more weeks, at least if you’re staying in the city, Knight-Captain,” he informed Erik. “You should get him shod before you travel anywhere, though.”

“Thank you, goodman,” Erik replied as he vaulted into his saddle.

The smith nodded and returned to the smithy.

Gherald led his dun warhorse from the stable a short time later and swung into the saddle. “The queen should be in the main council chamber with the delegation from the Thurigan League,” he told Erik as they crossed the courtyard. “We have plenty of time.”

Erik and Gherald left the Stone and rode to the Palace Square. They picketed their horses outside a stall built into a house near the eastern entrance to the square. Erik pulled the capelet of his hood up and tied it around his head, then draped his cloak over the back of a stool at the counter wrapping around the stall. Gherald pushed his hood back and sat next to Erik. The cook turned to them and bowed. “My lords,” he greeted them.

“What are you serving today, goodman,” Erik asked.

“Roasted chicken, beans in broth, and bread, my lord. The price is three pfennig with ale, two without.”

Erik nodded before he counted three small, thin silver coins from his belt pouch and set them down on the counter.

“We’ve just about filled the last few slots in the Order,” Gherald remarked as he paid the cook. “We’ll be ready to knight all but one in the next few weeks.”

Erik shook his head. “Took us long enough,” he grumbled.

“The Dunn Campaign didn’t exactly do us any favors. Did your squire survive the Hold?”

“I knighted him in the field before I left the Hold.”

“Good. The lad shows promise. We might have a good Knight-Lieutenant when Hod is ready to retire.”

“Is there any room left in Hod’s company?”

Gherald nodded and took a plate that the cook handed him. “There is,” he confirmed while he retrieved his spoon and fork from his pouch. “I think it’s a good choice.”

Erik cut the chicken quarter into small chunks and began spooning beans and meat onto the slice of bread. The cook raised an eyebrow when he noticed and strode over. “Is the food not to your liking, my lord,” he asked nervously.

Erik looked up and tilted his head to the side. “The food is fine, goodman,” he assured the cook.

Gherald cleared his throat. “The Knight-Captain just returned from a siege,” he explained.

The cook nodded. “Did you send those Selarians packing, my lord,” he asked Erik.

Erik nodded. “Not that there was much left to send,” he grumbled. “I think it’ll be a while before they can muster enough of an army to try again.”

The cook grinned. “That’s good news, my lord,” he replied.

Erik nudged Gherald when the cook turned back to his other customers. The two finished their lunch quickly and quietly returned to their horses. The cook was already pointing to Erik and telling anyone who would listen that the Selarian army had been broken on the walls of the Hold. They managed to cross the square and turn onto the boulevard leading to the palace before anyone could catch up to them. Erik looked out over the river as they neared the palace.

The palace occupied a sizable island in the Erlenz River, and its whitewashed outer wall stood nearly flush with the rocky edges of the island. The palace itself was visible towering above the ancient walls. The crowned, golden double eagles quartered with red griffons of the royal branch of House Ehrlinger streamed out in the breeze on the blue and white fields of their banners above the palace’s ancient towers. One building in a complex, it seemed, from the outside, an entirely uninviting place, its windows narrow and its parapeted roofs dominating the city below. A massive, fortified bridge spanned the fifty yards of river between the city and the palace island.

The guards at the gate allowed Erik and Gherald through without question, and they dismounted in the courtyard. They went into the palace and crossed the great hall to the administrative wing. The section of the palace had been built in antiquity and reflected the architecture of the time with its arched passageways and alcoves. They made their way quietly through the halls of the ancient administrative wing. They climbed a set of stairs and went to a large set of double doors at the end of the hall, flanked by a pair of Hunters. Gherald went through the doors without knocking while Erik waited outside. Erik’s sharp ears were able to pick up most of the conversation inside. Being half-elven was not without its advantages. “Knight-Captain Vespin has returned from the Hold, your majesty,” Gherald announced.

“He can wait,” a voice replied harshly.

Erik recognized the voice. It was Lord Gustav Klein, the Royal Seneschal.

“That’s enough,” Queen Estrid snapped. “Send him in, Knight-Commander.”

“Your majesty, I must protest,” another voice objected. “If Knight-Captain Vespin is here, then he’s unlikely to be the bearer of bad news. This meeting is important.”

Erik recognized that voice as well. It was the Royal Marshal. Lord Gaebril Brandt was a man who seemed to despise Erik with a passion, a dislike which Erik suspected was a mask for something else.

“And so is my Ostermark,” the queen replied calmly.

A throat cleared. “Your majesty,” a voice Erik didn’t recognize intervened politely. “With respect, the League has been monitoring the situation in the Hold as closely as your majesty has been generous enough to allow. If you don’t mind, we would like to hear his report on these barbarians as well.”

Erik could almost hear the smile in the queen’s voice. “I was pretty sure you’d feel that way, too,” she said lightly, then continued more firmly. “Bring him in, Knight-Commander.”

The door swung open, and Erik stepped inside. After bowing to the queen, Erik turned to the group of richly garbed men and women seated at the table opposite her. “I can assure you, ambassador, the Selarians are many things, but barbarians are not among them,” he said. “Varnellan was a barbarian. He was indiscriminate, lacked a head for strategy, and rarely had the patience for sieges. Thinking of the Selarians as barbarians would be a grave mistake.”

One of the ambassadors from the Thurigan League shifted uneasily in his seat. One of the two women in the delegation looked away, and Erik recognized Baroness Lieste De Marest. She’d tried to have him assassinated. Once.

The other woman was in her thirties, and she eyed Erik shrewdly. “So this is the Wolf of Vespin,” she mused.

Gaebril Brandt snorted. He was a lean man who would stand to Erik’s shoulders. He had brown hair and eyes, and a face that seemed fixed in a permanent sneer. “We all wish he’d at least dress the part, of course,” he sighed.

Erik fixed Gaebril in a hard gaze, and the man fell silent.

“Not right now, Gaebril,” the queen admonished cooly.

Gaebril sank into his seat, his face flushed like a scolded child.

“I believe you were about to speak, Knight-Captain,” Lieste De Marest remarked. “You have news of the Hold, then?”

Erik nodded. “We turned the Selarians back at the Hold,” he reported to the room. “They laid siege to the Hold with fifty thousand men and fled with less than fifteen thousand.”

“Wolf of Vespin, indeed,” another ambassador rumbled, and then turned to the queen. “With all due respect, your majesty, my colleagues and I should withdraw to consult with our patrons for advice.”

“By all means,” the queen replied.

The ambassadors stood and bowed to the queen, then they all filed from the room.

Estrid threw her head back and laughed as soon as she was sure they were gone. “That was excellent timing, Knight-Captain,” she told Erik. “They’ve been trying for months to get me to accept a deal that would have had every serf and yeoman in my kingdom looking for their axes and longbows. You just pulled the rug right out from underneath them.”

“I live but to serve, your majesty,” Erik quipped.

Seneschal Gustav shook his head. He was a slender man in his sixties with white hair that he carefully combed to conceal his balding head. “That deal could have been very profitable, your majesty,” he grumbled.

Estrid raised an eyebrow. “Profitable for whom, seneschal,” she asked. “My people? Or your purse? Not to mention what it would have done with trade with Verania and the Holy Heranian Empire, one of which I share a border with.”

Gustav glared down at the table.

Estrid eyed Gustav. “The next time you do something like this and try to play me for a fool, I may remind my Knight-Captain that your head is not so firmly attached to your shoulders,” she told the old man coldly.

Gustav nodded.

Estrid smiled at Erik. “Please, have a seat, Knight-Captain,” she said, motioning to a place at the table.

Erik pulled a chair out and sat down.

Gaebril was shaking his head. “You might want to watch your back, Knight-Captain,” he drawled. “Baroness De Marest stood to gain a lot from this deal and has a bit of a vengeful streak in her.”

Erik shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised,” he told Gaebril. “She tried to get someone to stick a knife in me before. It didn’t end very well for him.”

Gustav raised an eyebrow. “I imagine not,” he chuckled.

Estrid turned a hard look at Erik. “And, you felt no need to mention this to me why,” she asked in a tone like ice.

“That’s odd,” Erik replied. “I’m pretty sure I mentioned it before. We can discuss it later. I’m sure you’ll find it amusing.”

Gherald, who had been leaning against a wall, cleared his throat. “So, what was the outcome at the Hold,” he asked Erik.

Erik shook his head. “They surrendered after we made a counterattack,” he replied. “We sent what was left back with enough provisions for a return trip. We figure that the message will be clear enough. I’ll have a courier drop my reports off at the Stone to be copied. Their general seemed pretty sure he’s going to lose his head for his failure.”

“Not barbarians,” Gaebril said with a raised eyebrow.

Erik shrugged. “It’s not the way we would do things,” he agreed. “We don’t make a practice of executions for failure. I’ve spoken with the Selarian general, though. His name is Dalan. He’s an educated and urbane man, which are hardly traits which I would consider the hallmarks of a barbarian. There’s a difference between brutality and barbarism, Gaebril.”

Gaebril shook his head.

Estrid’s face turned serious as she looked around the table. “I need to speak with my Hunters privately, gentlemen,” she announced curtly.

The other men’s faces turned puzzled, but they stood and left the room.

Gherald waited for a while before he checked out the door to make sure they were gone. “Move a little ways down the hall,” he told the two Hunters outside and closed the door.

Erik raised an eyebrow. “Some unusual precautions in your own palace, your majesty,” he remarked.

“Necessary, though, Erik,” Estrid replied, setting her crown on the table. “And, we’re alone now, you can drop the formality. No new scars?”

“None.”

“Good. Your aunt would be displeased with me, as would the Baroness vonEisenheim. Before we get to the heart of the matter, I would like your advice. I must begin to consider my options if the worst comes to pass. If my daughter were to be unable to succeed me, then I shall need to name an heiress. What are your thoughts?”

“I didn’t know that it’s gotten this far. All I know is that Anna is sick.”

Estrid sighed sadly and shook her head. “It’s somewhat worse than that,” she replied. “The physicians tell me that her lungs are bleeding. They think that it’s unlikely that she’ll see the Winter Solstice, if she even lasts that long. To be honest, I’ve not called you here only as your queen fearing for the future of her kingdom. I’ve called you here as a mother concerned for her child.”

Erik shook his head. Anna was young enough that Erik had carried her on his shoulders while he was a squire. They’d become fast friends as she’d grown up, and she often looked to him for advice. A deep weariness set in. He’d seen enough of his friends die. “Is there any hope,” he asked.

“Faint, but there,” Gherald supplied. “We have a lead.”

Erik leaned back in his chair. “Who does the Royal Council favor right now,” he asked.

“The majority favor Lisbet Brandt,” Estrid growled.

Erik snorted. “Thank God your word is law, and you can tell them where to shove it,” he said flatly. “I’ll disavow my House and ride with the Yatsheliarrin before I bend my knee to that idiot.”

“I’d much prefer you go to Dunlain, but that’s neither here nor there,” Estrid replied primly. “The Barons of the Mittewald, the Ravenswald, and the Westmark said much the same thing.”

“And vonEisenheim?”

Estrid chuckled.

“The Iron Lady threatened to pledge her allegiance to Emperor Frederick if a Brandt ever took the throne,” Gherald rumbled.

Estrid grimaced. “What are your thoughts on Baroness Elina vonEisenheim, Erik,” she asked.

Erik shook his head. “She is intelligent, unrelenting, unforgiving, and, in a word, dangerous,” he replied. “Or, so she would have the Baronial Court and Royal Council believe. I was her page when my parents died, so I know that it’s only the public face she puts on. She is running the third most powerful household in the kingdom next to my own and the crown. She’ll enjoy quite a comfortable retirement from political life once her son comes of age.”

“That isn’t quite what I was asking.”

“She would make a poor queen.”

“Why is that?”

“You’ve been willing to ignore small slights, and it’s made you more popular. Elina vonEisenheim has a public face to maintain if she doesn’t want the barons thinking she’s too soft to hold things down for another five years. She is an excellent advisor, but she would make for a fearsome queen as dangerous to her own people as any invader.”

“That’s blunt enough,” Gherald remarked.

“And, her daughter,” Estrid pressed. “What was her name?”

“Ideslef,” Erik supplied.

Estrid raised an eyebrow, and Erik recognized the glint in her eye. The queen had been trying to play matchmaker for the last five years. It was something Erik bore with what tact he could manage. “She seems quite taken with you,” Estrid said, as if an aside.

Erik rolled a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s nothing more than a passing fancy. She’s barely eighteen, and her mother would do much better to marry her off to some fat lord from the Nordküst or the Westmark,” he told Estrid flatly before he changed the topic. “She’d likely do well as a queen with her mother’s guidance until she grows up a bit, though. She’s pretty enough that the common folk will like her. There may be other options as well.”

“Such as,” Estrid asked.

“I understand that the Baron of the Mittewald has a daughter attending the university in Coswig,” Erik pointed out. “Last I heard, Baron Riemann’s second son was courting her. She has potential, as long as she hasn’t bought into any of the crazier ideas that universities tend to produce.”

Estrid nodded. “I’ll take your advice into consideration,” she told Erik. “Were you aware of a meeting of the Baronial Court tomorrow morning?”

“Gherald mentioned it,” Erik sighed as he stood and began pacing. “The lead you mentioned earlier…I take it this person has something to do with you calling me back to Raine?”

Estrid gave Erik a sharp look and Gherald chuckled. “I did warn you that he’d start putting this together fast,” the old Hunter remarked dryly.

Estrid turned to the old knight with an icy gaze. “That’s quite enough, Knight-Commander,” she told him firmly, then turned back to Erik. “Yes it does, but I need to make sure that the Baronial Court can’t spike my wheel first.”

Erik pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know who’s in the city,” he grumbled. “The Baronial Court can’t do much without at least five of the high lords in attendance. My uncle has been acting as the Steward of Drassen for a while now. You couldn’t get him involved?”

Estrid sighed. “He left a week ago,” she replied. “When you see your uncle again, please convey our displeasure at his departure at a most inconvenient time for us. We sorely needed his presence on the Baronial Court.”

Erik winced at that. Estrid rarely used the royal plural in private unless she was irritated. She never emphasized it like she did unless she was truly offended. “I’ll be sure to tell him if I get the chance,” he promised. “Maybe, we can turn this to our favor and kill two birds with one stone. I can do what I’ve put off for far too long, and what I would be doing if you hadn’t called me here.”

Estrid raised an eyebrow.

“Let me address the Baronial Court on my own right, as the Lord of Drassen and the Ostermark. Maybe, I can convince them that you’re planning for contingencies. If I can assure them that you will act in the best interests of the kingdom should Anna not recover, it could at least buy us some time for your lead to pay off.”

Estrid leaned back and drummed her fingertips on the arm of her chair. “I have no good reason to say yes, or no, but plenty of bad ones,” she sighed and looked at Gherald. “Thoughts?”

“Everything we’re doing is grasping at straws, even calling him here,” Gherald replied with a shrug.

Estrid shook her head. “The Baroness vonEisenheim has been pressing me about it, too,” she admitted wryly. “And, I don’t want to seem to be caving to her until I know what she’s playing at.”

Erik chuckled. “The only thing the Iron Lady is playing at is what she’s always played at,” he pointed out.

“And what would that be?”

“Making sure she still has a House to turn over to her son when he’s of legal age to inherit.”

“You know her better than I do. What makes you say that?”

“She didn’t become the Iron Lady until after Terenz died. She’s had to become a hard woman to keep the Baron of the Nordküst from chipping away at her eastern border and her own vassals in line.”

“I suppose I’ll have to apologize to your uncle and send a courier, but we’ll do it your way.”

Erik nodded and sat down.

“Be honest with me, Erik. How are you feeling?”

Erik was taken aback by her question but covered it quickly. “I’m tired, your majesty,” he admitted. “The Hold was a difficult defense. I’ve seen my home only a few times in nearly fifteen years. I have a house I haven’t been able to run, and the longer I spend here, the more strained things get between me and my uncle.”

Estrid shook her head and stared out the window. “I know, Erik. I’m sorry. I’ve kept you hopping from one brush fire or invasion to another for far too long,” she apologized, then smiled at him. “I do seem to recall you telling my daughter once that some men are too valuable to waste, and you’ve made yourself indispensable to me over the years. I’m sorry I was so abrupt with you. Please, understand that I wouldn’t have summoned you if I didn’t truly need you here.”

Erik nodded. “Why did you decide to keep me in the dark,” he asked.

Estrid shook her head and stood. “Because I can’t risk a complete explanation falling into the wrong hands,” she replied.

Erik opened his mouth to object, but Estrid waved him off.

“I know Marie is good, Erik, and it took a lot of fast talking to get her to carry my letter at all. It’s still a risk,” Estrid continued as she began pacing. “I know that my daughter and I have enemies, especially of late. I can’t move against many of them because of the limits of the Elberg Charter. Even now, there is much that I won’t tell you. I know that you’ll refuse me if I tell you everything, but I need you to make me a promise.”

“You know me better than that.”

Estrid smiled. “I know you well enough to know how mule-headed you can be, too,” she said lightly. “Believe me, you would turn on your heel and walk out if I told you everything.”

Erik sighed and shook his head. “You haven’t released me of my oath as a Hunter,” he reminded Estrid. “I am still more or less obliged to go where you tell me and fight when you tell me. Besides, a commission as a Captain of the Hunters is technically for life.”

Estrid looked at Erik, assessing him and lost in thought for a moment. Finally, she sighed and turned away from him to look out the window. “Perhaps, I’ve let my own feelings on the matter cloud my judgment,” she conceded, “but I can’t take that risk. You will promise me this: you will swear to perform one last task for me, even though it may cause you pain.”

Erik stared at her, his mind racing to put together what she was talking about. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head. “I cannot promise that without knowing what you’re asking from me, your majesty,” he replied firmly. “If what you have in mind is for Anna’s sake, then I will help you. Otherwise, I will consider it.”

Estrid bowed her head, a faint smile on her face. “You are so much like your father,” she remarked sadly and stared out the window before she continued. “You and our lead will meet with me here tomorrow.”

Erik nodded.

Estrid turned to Erik, and her eyes flashed. “I will take your oath tomorrow, and I will not take no for an answer,” she told him firmly.

Erik shook his head. “That, your majesty, is for me to decide,” he replied gently. “The accords that established the Order state that our carrying out of the queen’s orders is our decision. I will not have a repeat of the Dunn.”

Estrid shook her head and sat back down, passing a weary hand over her face. “You know as well as I do that the Dunn was a mistake,” she said. “I won’t ask any Knight-Captain to repeat the horrors that happened there.”

Erik watched Estrid for a while, then nodded.

“How did we really fair at the Hold,” Estrid asked.

Erik shrugged. “I don’t think we could have held without the Osterian Knights, the detachments from Moirah and Muskovey, or the Boskish exiles,” he admitted. “You’ll have my reports as soon as I can manage.”

Estrid sighed. “I suppose I should compose a letter of gratitude to the King of Moirah, the Prince of Muskovey, and the exiled king then,” she said quietly.

“That would be an appropriate gesture,” Erik agreed, then grimaced. “Though I would add the Duchess of Dunlain to your list. She sent men from her personal retinue for some reason.”

Estrid shook her head. “That reason will be obvious to you soon enough, I’m sure,” she told Erik and stood. “But, I have other meetings and a lot to do before the day is over.”

Gherald stood from the wall.

Estrid’s face turned sad as she looked at Erik over her shoulder. “I’m sure Anna will want to see you, Erik,” she told him, then turned to Gherald. “Would you mind going with him?”

Gherald bowed. “I will, your majesty,” he replied. “Send for me if you need me.”

Estrid nodded. “I will,” she assured Gherald, then laid a hand on Erik’s shoulder. “She’s in her rooms with Patryk and her physician. Be careful with her. She’s become…delicate since you left.”

Erik stood and bowed. “I’ll be careful, your majesty,” he promised.

Estrid smiled sadly and left quietly. Erik could hear the sound of mailled feet retreating down the hall, following the queen.

Erik turned to Gherald and motioned to the door. Gherald followed Erik out, and the two walked quietly through the halls.

“Was the situation at the Hold as bleak as you made it seem,” Gherald asked as they passed from the administrative wing to the residence.

Erik nodded. “It was,” he replied.

Gherald shook his head. “The Selarians in the east, the Imperium in the west, and the Haldin moving on Muskovey in the south,” he grumbled.

“I know.”

The two men walked in silence the rest of the way. Erik waited outside Anna’s rooms when they arrived while Gherald disappeared inside. The old Hunter opened the door a moment later and motioned him in. Erik stepped in, glancing briefly around the room before bowing to Anna. The room was decorated with velvet drapes and soft carpeting that muffled the sound of footsteps. The curtains had been drawn to let in plenty of light, the windows had been opened, and the door to the small balcony outside stood open.

Anna wore a pale blue dressing gown and sat on a divan with a book in her lap. She was a slender young girl of fifteen with gray eyes and red hair caught in an intricate braid down her back. A physician sat next to her, mixing something from a vial into a cup of hot tea. Patryk, the royal sage, sat at a table in the middle of the sitting room, watching the physician while drumming his fingers idly on the table. His distrust for the other man was written plainly on his lean features. He was a man of indeterminate age with brown hair peppered with gray and hard, brown eyes.

Anna looked at Erik and inclined her head, then smiled at him. “Knight-Captain,” she greeted him happily, then grimaced. “Or, Lord-Captain, I should say according to the Knight-Commander.”

“Drink this, your highness,” the physician insisted quietly.

Anna took the teacup and began sipping at it. “Would you give us a moment, Master Berti,” she told the physician.

The older man smiled, stood, and bowed. “As you wish, your highness,” he replied. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

Anna waited for the physician to leave, still sipping at her tea. Once the older man was gone, she stuck her tongue out. “Just once, someone is going to come up with a medicine that doesn’t taste so foul,” she complained.

“Doctors seem to think that bitter medicine helps people heal,” Patryk opined in his resonant baritone. “I’ve always maintained that doctors have too high an opinion of themselves on that.”

Anna chuckled, and then turned to Erik. Her face was serious, even grave. “You look tired, Erik,” she observed.

“I’ve had a busy year,” Erik replied dryly. “You sound like you’re in a good mood.”

“I am. I’ve been able to see some old friends lately, and that tends to cheer a person up.”

Erik sat in a chair by the table. “What have you been reading,” he asked.

Anna held the book up so that Erik could see the title while she finished her tea and set the empty cup aside.

Erik raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know that I’d consider a collection of old Telarian plays exactly cheery,” he remarked.

“These are mostly comedies,” Anna sighed. “Yesterday was a bit rough until the evening, and the Telarian comedies have always cheered me up.”

Erik nodded and leaned his elbows on his knees. “You seem to be taking all of this pretty well,” he remarked.

“I’m taking it as best I can. We have a lead, which is more than we had a month ago.”

Erik nodded.

“And, you? How have you been?”

“Exhausted.”

“Now, that just won’t do. The Wolf of Vespin isn’t allowed to be tired. It’s practically a royal decree.”

Erik chuckled.

Anna laughed, then her face turned serious as she eyed Erik. She turned to Gherald. “He doesn’t know, does he,” she asked the old Hunter.

“He’ll figure it out,” Gherald replied. “Your mother is still keeping her mouth shut on the matter.”

Anna shook her head. “I don’t think she should, but I’ll go along with it for now,” she grumbled.

Erik grimaced.

Patryk stood. “I still maintain that we should tell him,” he said flatly as he went to the door. “I’ll be right outside for a moment. I want to speak with the doctor.”

Anna nodded and frowned as Patryk left. “I see he’s still not happy with my mother about this,” she remarked.

“I agree with him,” Gherald growled.

“Just so long as the two of you understand that you need to get along,” Anna told Erik.

Erik pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re not helping me figure it out, Anna,” he replied.

“I’m not trying to, right now, Erik. I’m at least trying to be a good daughter, for once.”

Erik tilted his head to the side and shook his head when he saw the impish grin on Anna’s face. “I don’t think you’ve disappointed your mother at all, Anna,” he sighed.

“Maybe,” Anna conceded dubiously. “Be that as it may, you’re probably going to have to work with someone who might be about the last person you want to see right now. Just don’t be too mad at my mother when you find out. I might do things differently were I in the same position, but she really is doing what she thinks is right.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

Anna opened her mouth to say more but stopped abruptly. She brought a kerchief up to her mouth and began coughing. It was a wet, tearing sound that seemed to rack her entire body. Erik shot to his feet and had unconsciously taken a step forward when Gherald grabbed his arm. “Don’t get too close,” the old Hunter whispered in Erik’s ear. “The physicians believe that her illness is catching.”

Erik muttered a curse and rounded on Gherald. Then, he saw the haunted look on the older man’s face. “Just get the doctor, Knight-Commander,” he told the old Hunter quietly.

Gherald nodded and went to the door.

Erik paced and watched Anna. She was pale when she dropped her hand to her side, and there was blood on the kerchief and the hand that held it. Anna wasn’t moving. The doctor came into the room and placed himself between Erik and Anna. “You should leave, now, Lord-Captain,” the physician said flatly.

Erik eyed the man.

“He’s half elven,” Anna said weakly. “He can’t catch it.”

“With all due respect, your highness,” the doctor replied. “I am not taking that risk.”

Erik looked at the doctor and nodded. “I understand,” he told the doctor quietly. “Try to make her comfortable, at least.”

The doctor nodded. “I will, Lord-Captain,” he promised. “I’ll take her out on the balcony to get some fresh air and sunlight. It will help more than you realize.”

Erik shook his head and left the room. He paced the hall restlessly for a moment before turning to Gherald and Patryk. “Has the university here been able to offer any help,” he asked.

Patryk shook his head. “They say they’ve already sent physicians through the Royal Council,” he growled. “To make matters worse, they won’t let me do any research of my own.”

Erik was taken aback by that.

“The bastards have basically cast me out,” Patryk continued angrily. “It makes me wonder who’s pulling the strings in there. I certainly hope our friend has better luck with her connections there.”

“That was one of the things her majesty told us not to mention,” Gherald growled at Patryk.

Erik leaned against a wall. “Gherald, if the university won’t even let Patryk in the door right now, what makes you think your contact will have any better luck,” Erik asked.

Gherald shook his head and said nothing.

“Our contact has certain connections and talents,” Patryk explained. “She’s especially well-connected at the university here in Raine.”

Erik raised an eyebrow.

Patryk grunted and turned to Gherald. “You should have told him that you were bringing her into it,” he told Gherald flatly. “I don’t think she hurt him, but it would have been better for him to know that she was going to be involved.”

“That’s enough, Patryk,” Gherald snapped. “You’re treading on thin ice as it is.”

“I always tread on thin ice, Knight-Commander. It’s what her majesty counts on me to do.”

The relaxed veneer drained suddenly from Gherald, and the old Hunter uncoiled like a serpent to seize Patryk’s tunic in his fist. “I have a mind to,” he began.

“Stand down, Knight-Commander,” Erik barked.

Gherald released Patryk and snapped to attention. “Yes, Lord-Captain,” he replied.

Erik shook his head. “We can’t afford to be turning on each other,” he growled, then turned to Patryk. “What are you on about?”

Patryk shook his head. “Like Gherald pointed out, I’m already treading on thin ice,” he replied. “Either way, you may have to take her to one of the other universities, perhaps Coswig or Drassen. Keep your oath as a Hunter in mind when you meet her, Erik. She might just be the most important person in the kingdom right now.”

Erik eyed Patryk as the sage strode into Anna’s sitting room and closed the door. Everything that people had let slip, whether accidentally or deliberately, clicked into place in his mind. Erik’s face was a mask as he locked eyes with Gherald, his face hard. “I only know one woman who is well known at the university here, Gherald,” Erik growled. “Tell the queen that I’m not putting her in danger.”

“That man has a big mouth on him,” the old Hunter grated.

“He’s right, though. You should have told me that you were getting her involved.”

Gherald shook his head.

“I should get home before Alwin starts to worry,” Erik said flatly, then turned on his heel to leave.

“Lord-Captain,” Gherald called after him.

“What do you want, Knight-Commander?”

“Will you agree to what her majesty asks? For Anna’s sake, if for no other reason?”

Erik glared at the man over his shoulder. He didn’t reply. He simply kept walking.