The Lady Knight

Chapter II: Arrivals and Adversaries

Unknown Person

An evening. A dingy study. A lone, exhausted man.

Wringing his hands in agitation, he paced back and forth restlessly. His mind was swirling with turmoil despite the countless bottles of whiskey he had consumed to numb his heated thoughts.

Curse those useless men!

All he had asked of them was to sneak into Derelia Manor through the cellar, lure the two Lords of Derelia up to the bedchamber nearest to an exit, and murder them both silently and swiftly.

A simple plan. A simple plan that he had paid them handsomely to execute.

And what had the airheads done instead? They had murdered the elder and foolishly left the younger in the hands of the Lady Knight herself!

In a burst of mounting frustration, he grabbed the empty chalice from the oak table, refilled it for the umpteenth time that night with dark, amber whisky, and gulped down its contents in one swift motion, wincing at the feel of the scorching liquid rushing down his throat.

The pain offered him a momentary respite from his mental torment, and for that, he was grateful.

But Lord, what in the world was he going to tell his Master? That his men had left the job incomplete? That the younger Lord of Derelia, a good friend of the Lady Knight, might just pour out the truth to her once she began her investigations? That all of his Master's hard work throughout the last decade might soon go to waste because of this one, critical folly?

Nay. He could not let that happen. His Master would have his head in every sense of the word.

He had to do something.

In that precise moment of indecision, almost like a godsend, his eyes fell on the latest scroll that had arrived from some of his spies abroad earlier during the day. Although they sent him regular reports from time to time, this particular scroll, compared to all others before, held intriguing tidings.

Rubbing his eyes, he set his chalice down on the table, and picked up the scroll, contemplating.

According to his spies, Crown Prince Nicholas Seymour of Monrique had set sail from the shores of Osterlund a couple of days ago, upon the completion of his studies - in secret.

Apparently, His Royal Highness intended to surprise his father the King and the people of Monrique with his return to his homeland after a decade.

The Crown Prince was coming home at long last.

The middle-aged man twirled the scroll between his fingers, his mind working furiously. The whole country would rejoice and celebrate the return of its much beloved Crown Prince in the weeks to come - with balls, parades, and endless revelling, in Bordeux Castle and on the streets and taverns alike.

He was certain of it.

He was also certain that no one would pay too much attention to the prisoners in the Bordeux Dungeons during these celebrations.

A slow, sinister smile spread across his face. He knew just how to remedy this situation.

***

The Lady Knight

"Captains Dupont, Evans, Morrison, Everard, Percival, fall in!"

Riding furiously fast into the courtyard of Bordeux Castle, I jumped off my mare Aurora and turned around to face the five men who dismounted behind me at once, dragging a groggy Lord Lucien down with them.