Even after nearly two hundred years, Duke Thorne’s seat at Brodgar still gave an impression of being a military outpost. The dukes had not allowed civilian structures either inside or outside the fort’s stone walls to compromise its defensive capabilities, so the town grew up in an uneven ring about a hundred yards beyond the outside wall. Out of a sense of guilt, the current duke’s great-grandfather had begun the construction of a second wall to protect most of the outer town with a thick, thirty-foot wall. His son had completed the project, and the sitting duke was contemplating adding a wide moat that would make Brodgar a virtual island.
Adon’s company arrived at its gate as the afternoon waned. The white-haired, burly gate sergeant who greeted them sent a runner to the fortress to inquire where the Duke wished them lodged. The curt order the puffing runner relayed when he returned was, “Send them to the castle.” So, to the castle they went.
With his young wife, Duke Borgond met them as they pulled into the castle’s yard. Like his ancestors, he stood a little over average height, but his broad shoulders and deep, heavily muscled chest made him appear hulking. He boasted thick arms like a blacksmith’s, and his hands were blocky and strong. His hair fell just a shade shy of black, as did his thick beard, both of which he kept cut short. In contrast, his large teeth shone white as he smiled in welcome.
“This is a pleasant surprise, Adon,” he said as the weary captain dismounted and handed Ranger off to a groom. “It seems you travel with an entourage these days!”

Adon bowed to the duke and duchess. “Thank you for your hospitality, lord,” he said, removing his hat. “The king has sent us on a mission to deal with the emanations while he prosecutes the war. Until this morning, I had no intention of coming this way, or else I would have given you some warning.”
“Think nothing of it,” the duke said, waving a wide hand. “I’m happy to see you and get the chance to talk. Let me introduce you to my wife, Arisa, Duke Leona’s niece. My dear, this gallant man is Adonis Santinetta, son of Baron Mardans Santinetta. He is the king’s agent and what, uncle?”
“Technically, I’m his cousin,” Adon said, a corner of his mouth lifting, “but the king calls me ‘uncle.’” He bowed over the pretty, dark-haired duchess’ hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Duchess Thorne! And may I congratulate you both on your recent marriage! I believe it has been only about six months, right?”
“Your memory is excellent as always, Adon!” Borgond said, grinning. “We have indeed just passed half a year of wedded bliss! And if the Shepherd wills, I’m looking forward to the first of a handful of little Thornes soon!”
“Am I to assume you are with child, lady?” Adon asked, not sure that was what Borgond meant.
A blush and a smile bloomed on her fair skin. “Yes, we just found out this past fortnight,” she said demurely.
“My congratulations and wishes for good health for you and the babe!” the captain said, smiling. “Children are wonderful! I have five myself! I brought one with me, my daughter, Artema.” He waved the young woman forward, and she curtsied before the duke and duchess.
“She’s a beauty like her mother,” the duke said, an amazed look on his face. “In fact, she looks almost exactly like Cassindra! The resemblance is almost uncanny. Welcome, Artema, to Brodgar!”
“Thank you, lord,” she said, beaming. “Congratulations on your marriage! I have recently married as well. My husband is Ren Paxon. He’s the tall man speaking with the Palace Guard sergeant over there.”
“Our congratulations to you!” Arisa said, flashing beautiful, straight teeth. “Borgond, I will take these young women inside to refresh themselves, and you and the men can do whatever men do. I’m sure these ladies would like to be among women for a time before they must return to the road.”
“Of course, my dear,” the duke said. “Splendid idea! We men will get out of the sun, have a drink, and talk a bit before supper! Come, Adon! My men will find room for your soldiers in the barracks. Bring your crew inside and tell me of your mission.”
After giving orders for their baggage to be brought to their apartments, the duchess led Artema, Gamila, and Mia into the massive keep that had become the residence of the dukes of Thorne. What had once been a broad tower now showcased two, three-story wings that reached the north and south walls of the fortress so that it functioned more like a small palace than a citadel. After waiting for Bandrick to feel satisfied that the duke’s grooms would take good care of the horses, the men followed a few minutes later.
Footmen escorted them to pleasant guest rooms where they could wash off some of the sweat and grime of the road before reconvening in the duke’s study. Adon’s crew found him sitting on a couch situated to look out a wide window onto a small formal garden at the castle’s rear. With no lamps burning, the room was dim with the wan, late-afternoon light largely blocked by the castle’s walls. Its furniture, made of dark-stained wood and covered with deep burgundy cloth, sat on woolen carpets of midnight blue and red with the merest tracery of gold.
Beckoning them to sit near him, he ordered refreshments to be brought and served. “This room is my inner sanctum,” he explained as they waited for the servants to return. “It’s my favorite place to think, sometimes to hide from the world for just an hour, so I don’t go mad. My staff will not disturb me if the door is closed, a rule I enforce strenuously. My butler will close the door after we’re served, so we will have complete privacy. I want to know what’s really going on. The tidbits the birds bring are not enough.”
Reappearing a few minutes later, the butler and two footmen bore trays of food, cool wine, and fruit drinks. They also left a tall pitcher of ale, which Adon knew would not last the conversation. Giving the room a last glance to ensure everything was in order, the butler lit two lamps on a table behind the duke’s couch, considerably brightening the study. With bows toward the duke, the servants left, closing the door behind them.
“All right, Adon,” Duke Borgond said, leaning forward toward the captain as soon as the latch clicked, “tell me what in the Shepherd’s name is going on. We’ve seen Leitani men stream through my lands into the Dragon’s Teeth, and I’ve heard rumors of attacks on road stations, farms, and ranches, thievery of horses and cattle, and of course, these cursed emanations. How do they all fit together? I hate not knowing the whole picture.”
“That’s understandable, lord,” Adon said, putting down his glass to refill it, using the time to do this simple task to order his thoughts. Sighing, he sat back. “About a month ago, we became aware of rumors floating about of Leitani men leaving Palisade and elsewhere for the eastern mountains. Of course, the emanations had already started, but they baffled us. The king ordered me to investigate an unusual emanation in The Corner, and the day we left, the Prophetess Kanita had a vision that helped answer some of our questions. We discovered there is a warrior-priest of Azuri in the Dragon’s Teeth named Baktron Nekhesh, who has been gathering warriors for an insurrection. We also learned he’s responsible for sending the emanations over the land. My son, Thesis, later figured out that they originate somewhere near old Essela. Finally, just yesterday, Leitan citizens of Blayne told us that this Nekhesh has about ten thousand warriors. They expected them to arrive there today.”
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“Ten thousand!” the duke cried, snapping out a curse as he rose and began pacing before the window. “That is thousands more than the kingdom’s army! What is Lorens going to do?
“I have had word he left Palisade today with all three divisions,” Adon said. “He is hurrying toward Blayne, fully aware of what he faces. Though our force is smaller, it is better trained, better armed.”
“Do you think he will lay siege to Blayne?” Borgond asked, concerned. The town was part of his duchy, and he knew many of its leading citizens.
“I don’t know,” Adon admitted, “but knowing him, he won’t want to. He wants to use the Third Division as effectively as possible.”
“Aye,” the duke agreed. “Cavalry is better suited to open country.” He paced a long while, absorbing what he had heard, stroking his beard occasionally as he thought. Finally, he returned to his couch. “So, tell me what you plan to do. How can I help you?”
“Well, lord,” Adon began, scratching his own beard, “Sergeant Stag, who hails from this area, suggested we travel up the river’s west bank to its source, then head to Essela. We’d be easily spotted out on the plain, but the trees near the river will provide some cover. Once we’re there, we’ll figure out our next steps. We really don’t know what we’ll find once we get there.”
After a long moment, Borgond nodded. “It seems secrecy is more important than speed right now, so the idea to travel along the far bank has merit. As for the area around Essela, well, few people go there. It is dry, rugged wilderness close to the treeline. Bears, wolves, and lions prowl up there. Many Leitani live the old way in those mountains—on this side and the other. It’s hostile territory any way you look at it. Are you sure you want to take those young women with you?”
Ren spoke up. “They are tougher than they look, lord. Besides, I won’t leave my wife behind.”
Adon nodded. “Each of them fills a purpose on this mission. Even the youngest and smallest, Mia, I deem, will prove herself quite useful before this is all over. Besides, she grew up in mountainous territory over near The Corner. She’s good with a bow, and I’m teaching her the whip.”
“Fine,” the duke said, smiling. “I won’t tell you your job, Adon! But do you want additional troops? I can spare a squad or two, I think.”
The captain shook his head. “No, thank you, lord. The company is already larger than I wanted. In fact, I considered leaving a few of the Palace Guard troops here, but I’ll keep them because the king wanted me to have them. They proved their worth as we fled from Blayne. We lost Sir Lyle Manton and two others fighting a rearguard action to let us escape.”
“Sir Lyle!” Borgond cried, standing abruptly, holding his head between his hands. “Dead? By the Shepherd! What a terrible loss! He was the best of us!”
Adon took a deep breath. “We hardly had time to deal with it ourselves,” he said softly. “I just think about his poor wife and children.” A pall settled on the study.
Mast cleared his throat. “I don’t want to be the grumpy old man pointing out reality, but a lot more people are going to die in the next weeks in this rebellion. The sooner we cut the head off the snake, the fewer people will get themselves killed. We have to move fast.”
“I agree,” said Bandrick, sitting at the edge of the group. “If we do our job, we save lives. Duke Thorne, if I may offer some advice . . .”
“Please do,” the duke responded, grim-faced. “I will consider all recommendations. Much of this is new to me.”
“The Leitani won’t stop at Blayne,” Bandrick said in his deep voice. “They want all of Thorne, indeed all Margonne! So, foraging parties will soon raid your southern homesteads. They certainly did so in the eastern hills as they passed through to Blayne. It would not surprise me if they try to infiltrate Brodgar like they did in Blayne, or worse, send an army to show up outside your walls. They know the dukes have only a few men-at-arms. So, I beg you: Muster your men to defend your land. Call up your levies! If this war drags on even a little longer, you’re surely their next target.”
A note:
The Leitani rebellion caught many dukes, like Borgond Thorne, off guard. The kingdom had experienced such a long peace that military readiness in the duchies was abysmal. In deference to the king’s responsibilities for the kingdom’s defense, and not to appear disloyal, most dukes supported only a few dozen men-at-arms. The rest of those they could call “fighting men” were guards and constables trained to police their cities and towns. Most had ancient levy covenants with their subjects to employ, but musters had rarely been called. King Lorens also waited too long to inform the dukes of the Leitani threat, and the slow means of communication at the time slowed matters even further.
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Hopefully, Brodgar can prepare quickly for the imminent danger!