No one else was saying anything, so Vero laid out her own thoughts to the others. “We should move against them quickly, before they realize their trap has failed.

  "We’ve just killed fourteen here, and two vampyres. Even if they took the fortress by surprise, there must have been some resistance. According to our information, they probably have roughly a hundred men remaining, perhaps fewer if we're fortunate. That’s not enough to guard the entire fortress at all hours. If we move during the day we lose Elizaveta’s aid, but we also deny them the aid of their remaining vampyres.”

  “The outer wards are meant to misdirect,” said Pentarch. “They can be easily bypassed if one knows the right way to go. The wards embedded within the walls of the fortress itself are powerful. No undead thing can enter, I’m certain of that.”

  “Could your Curia dispel those wards?” asked Elizaveta.

  “With extreme effort, yes,” Pentarch replied wearily. “But they would not do that unless it were urgent, the Curia aren’t fools. And I would know if they had been dispelled, they have not.”

  “What’s this business about the eclipse?” asked Isolde “That would certainly be the time to bring down a major ward, all arcane barriers become weakened under those stellar conditions, but why is it so urgent that Veronique be back before that date?”

  “I don’t know,” Pentarch answered. “But I do know that my instructions were insistent on that point. I hadn’t intended to try and force the mountains again until spring.”

  “Then perhaps we should simply wait?” Vero suggested. “We could stay with Elizaveta until after the eclipse and see what comes of it.”

  “We cannot do that,” said Alexius.

  “Why not?” Heward asked mildly, when everyone else was silent.

  “The Landgravine Sidonie is behind us with three other vampyres, and two more centuries of soldiers. They're under orders to prevent us from turning back, and to flush us forwards. They have also been told that it is urgent Vero be taken to the fortress before the eclipse. They intend to kill the rest of us.”

  “We really are in trouble if we’re taking this madman’s counsel,” observed Isolde. “Are we just supposed to trust his lunatic insight?”

  No one answered her.

  “I know a way into the fortress unobserved,” Pentarch grumbled. “It shouldn’t be guarded.”

  “Why should we return there at all?” Isolde asked. “Even if the vampyres are forgotten, and someone in your fortress put up stout enough resistance that there are only say… fifty healthy fighting men left in condition to resist us. That still leaves us outnumbered ten to one. Even with surprise that battle would be suicide. Taking no account of the fact that the enemy must have had at least some allies among the initial defenders to make it this far in the first place. How many members of your order can you actually trust?”

  “There must have been a traitor, but the majority of the order are loyal.” Pentarch sounded very sure, and Vero wished that she felt the same. “If the keep has been taken by vampyres, then we should expect our opposition to have preferred live prisoners. Their food supplies will be scarce until reinforcements can set up a stable logistical train. We have a chance to save those prisoners. And if we can destroy the vampyres while they sleep during the day, then Elizaveta can more than make up for our lack of numbers at night.”

  “I can bring my maids,” offered Elizaveta. “We cannot assist you beyond those wards, however.”

  Isolde began to object, but Pentarch spoke over her. “I accept that much is still unknown. We shall almost certainly need to go south for allies before we can retake the fortress. But if there are two hundred soldiers behind us, the only way out is forwards. We do have a unique opportunity by taking advantage of their hasty action to rescue those slayers who are still loyal. I do not intend to lose it. Once we’ve retrieved our own, we can decide if it’s wiser to fight or to retreat and regroup in Burgorod.”

  No one liked the plan, but no alternatives were forthcoming.

  Elizaveta flew back the direction they came, and she confirmed that Sidonie was exactly where Alexius claimed. She stayed near Vero until it was time for them to go their separate ways. “Are you certain about this, sweet one?”

  “No. But I need to get back into that fortress,” Vero answered.

  “I understand why that sword is so important to you. I still worry for your safety. Half the people there want you dead, and I don’t have any greater trust in the intentions of the other half.”

  “Surprise is our best advantage. They don’t know about you. If we do run into trouble, then I’ll be expecting you to ride to my aid once night falls.”

  “I shall do my best, Vero. But I begin to worry for my own safety as well.”

  Pentarch led them in the direction of the hot springs. He moved past the steaming water to a crevice in the ice. Iron rings were anchored to the wall. They used them to secure a rope, which they dropped down into the blackness of the crevice.

  What passed for daylight only just dawned when they descended into the dark cave one by one. Perhaps thirty feet down, there was a stone ledge which jutted out over a perilous abyss. One with a no-doubt fatal fall at the end of it.

  Pentarch guided them all down onto the ledge. Then they went through a tight vertical crack that necessitated sidestepping. The path ended at a wall, but there was another small opening there at shoulder height. It had just enough space to inch along by crawling on their bellies, but it was the only way forwards. Jagged rocks reached out to snag their clothes and equipment as they passed.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Pentarch went first, followed by Vero, then Isolde, Alexius, and Heward served as rear guard. The only light came from the guttering lantern Pentarch held out ahead of himself, and the shadows drew harsh contrasts on the sharp edges of the rocks.

  After crawling for several minutes, the opening slowly grew wider. They emerged into an oval chamber with smooth walls. Beside the way they crawled through, there was one other way out with just enough room for them to walk one at a time.

  They took a moment in the chamber to regroup, then they set out again in the same marching order. Eventually, they reached an iron barred door which blocked the way into a much wider chamber. Pentarch passed the lantern back to Vero and took his keyring from his pack. He used it to open the door, and they passed through.

  “I thought I’d find you creeping through here-” They all readied their weapons in surprise; Lothair shambled forward to greet them. “-if I waited long enough. A lot of people thought the three of you were dead, but I suspected we would be seeing you again. Who’s this?” Lothair nodded towards Heward.

  Vero noticed that Alexius seemed to have vanished once more.

  “A friend,” Pentarch grunted. “What’s happened here?”

  “Too much, old friend. Come upstairs, we can talk more comfortably there.”

  “You’re certain it’s secure?” Pentarch’s voice portrayed the same uneasiness Vero felt.

  Lothair feigned comradery with them but something was wrong, she was sure of it.

  “Oh yes. You’ll understand once you see what’s happening.” Lothair went up a staircase to a door, hidden behind a tapestry on the other side.

  The door opened into Lothair’s private room. He took a seat and poured himself a glass of wine from a carafe. “Would you care for some?”

  “No,” Pentarch replied, coming up the stairs. “Now tell me what’s been happening here.”

  “No hostility, old friend. I’m not your enemy.”

  “Aren’t you? Forgive me, but my homecoming was an ambush by more than a dozen killers with orders to murder me. That makes it difficult to discern the differences between friends and enemies, you understand.”

  “It’s not what we wanted at all. Not I, at least. It’s her that needs to die.” He pointed at Vero. “There’s no reason the rest of you can’t go free.”

  Heward took a step between Vero and Lothair. “I’ll kill you first.”

  Lothair drained his glass and poured himself another. “Please don’t be unreasonable. I don’t even know who you are, ser. Magister, you in particular have no love for the Lady Veronique. My men have already cut the rope you climbed down here on, there's no way out. Can you not prevail on your companions to be peaceable about this?”

  “I have no love for the Dame, that is true. But I have no greater love for you or your lot. It seems you have a taste for treachery. What is to prevent you from turning on us the moment we’ve given ourselves up and then slitting our throats?”

  “My word,” replied Lothair. “And don’t smile at me, magister. I’ve betrayed no one. That woman is a danger to all of us.”

  “Really?” Vero asked, bemused. “You’re very flattering. I’m a genuine menace to roasted ducks, scrambled eggs, and to the innocence of handsome naive squires… but perhaps you could explain the threat I pose to a castle full of vampyres and cutthroats?”

  “I don’t know. I only know that the Fiend-worshipers within the Curia need you. They’ve put out orders to the Toad and all their puppets that you’re to be brought to them alive, and in good condition. It’s possible you’re just another victim of all this – and in that case, I’m very sorry – but better for you to die painlessly here and now, then to meet whatever fate the diabolists have planned for you.”

  “You’re not with the Fiend-worshipers?” Pentarch asked. Vero noticed he was shifting himself towards Lothair’s side of the room.

  “I’m no witch or traitor to the Order. I’ve been working with the purity faction within the Curia for a long time. Before you even approached me. I joined your secret council under orders. You can see it’s really you who’s been our agent this entire time. It was the Fiend-worshipers who wanted her brought here. They told us all it was for that sword of hers, and at first, we believed that was what they wanted. It’s more than that, the sword was their smokescreen, and they’ve been working to protect her ever since. They need the Lady Veronique herself. More than once, we placed her in danger as a test. Each time the conspiracy suddenly moved just perfectly to bring her through each trap or ambush hale and hearty. They need you alive, Vero. If you’re truly willing to sacrifice your life for the good of the hunt, then we can put an end to their plans right now.”

  Pentarch continued his drift towards Lothair’s side. “If you are true to the code, as you claim, how can you explain your alliance with vampyres? You’ve allowed the undead right up to the walls of our very citadel.”

  “Not all vampyres are allies any more than all humans are. You should know that as well as I, Pentarch. The Fiend-worshipers formed an alliance with the Black Palatine. That was an open secret to us for some time. It was for this reason we sent you to destroy him. We expected the conspirators to warn their ally, and that they would destroy the girl for us. Even if they did not, the poison was designed to kill the host when it was activated. When the Lady Vero survived, and he didn’t, we were caught off guard. The Fiend-worshipers invited in the vampyres and their men to dispose of the garrison here, and anyone else who resisted them.”

  “That group didn’t include you; it seems,” Isolde remarked.

  “No, my masters in the Curia have decided to acquiesce to this power play, for the moment. That bought the freedom of myself, and those men who could be trusted. Since then, I’ve looked for others among the occupiers who are just as unhappy about the current state of affairs as we are. I sent a party of them to intercept your group on the way here, before the diabolists capture her again.”

  Vero threw up her hands. “This is ludicrous. I’ve been accused of having an exaggerated sense of my own importance, but I promise you, I’m not worth all this trouble.”

  “You’re important enough to provoke the Fiend-worshipers to come out into the open,” Lothair countered. “You’re important enough that they treated one of the oldest and most powerful arcane artifacts on this continent as a simple distraction. I don’t know what they’re planning. Only that you are utterly vital to it. And that it must be stopped, for the good of all.”

  They all heard the main door being unlocked with a key, and everyone, including Lothair, stared at it in surprise. Then Iosephus strode into the room, accompanied by several armed men.

  Lothair stood up. “You said I had more time to convince them to do this peacefully! We don’t need to kill them all!”

  “The only one I intend to kill, is you.” Iosephus plunged his dagger into Lothair’s belly without a moment of hesitation.

  The dying slayer looked at his companion in confusion. “Why?”

  “We need the Lady Veronique alive, and we’re no longer playing games. The rest of you who remained intransigent have already been similarly dealt with.”

  Iosephus chanted, and grasping vines sprouted from Lothair’s body. There was no use in struggle, the vines filled the room in an instant, fed by the dying man's last life's blood. There were cries and shouts, but none of them could move in the unnatural briar.

  “Cut them down one at a time,” Iosephus ordered. “Put the men in the dungeon with the rest of the feeding stock for our allies. Take the Lady Veronique to the laboratory.”

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