'Do you know who I am?!' The words reached Darius's ears the moment he set foot in the corridor. He closed his eyes, almost certain of what to expect. With a slight hesitation, he looked in the direction from which they had come. A short distance away stood a man who was not particularly tall, even for a halfling, dressed from head to toe in patterned, cream-coloured satin and wearing so much jewellery that it would have been enough to lavishly adorn at least a few people. It looked somewhat comical as he angrily wagged his finger at a burly, heavily armoured man in plate armour. Clearly, his ego prevented him from seeing the problem, or perhaps he was simply so accustomed to giving orders that it didn't occur to him that anyone might disobey him. Furthermore, it seemed he had completely failed to recognise the insignia of the Royal Guard, or if he had, he had simply ignored them. 'I am Oswald Burtch! I serve the noble House of Murphy, as my father did before me, and my grandfather, and my great-grandfather! How dare you stop me?! I'll have you flogged!' Bleist almost burst out laughing. Someone here doesn't realise they'll most likely end up in the stocks themselves. 'Take me to the commander!' he shrieked in a high-pitched voice.
The Guards just exchanged glances and decided that ignoring the intruder would be the best tactic. It wasn't particularly difficult either; all they had to do was look ahead, not at their feet. However, the halfling wouldn't give up, shouting ever louder and at least an octave higher.
'What's going on here?' Rex quickly made his way over to the commotion.
'We explained… to the honourable gentleman that the colonel is busy and does not receive visitors, Corporal.' One of the heavily armed men spoke up, and Darius recognised the voice of Harven Gut'tan. 'However… he refuses to accept this.' The highly diplomatic reply infuriated the halfling even more.
'I am a chamberlain at Governor Murphy's court! How dare you treat me with such contempt!' Burtch emphasised his indignation with a stamp of his foot.
'You've already informed us of that,' the Guard said dispassionately.
'You'll all face trial!' the halfling shouted, pointing his finger at Rex.
'Considering that members of the Royal Guard can only be judged by their superiors and the Crown Marshal, I rather doubt it.' The corporal did not even deign to glance at his interlocutor. 'Please measure your words, or else I shall be forced to conclude that you are attempting a coup.' Only now did he look at the halfling. 'And you can be hanged for that,' the non-commissioned officer added in a warning whisper.
'Is something wrong?' Darius had no desire to watch the whole incident unfold from the sidelines. They had to sort this out as quickly as possible and move on. Bleist was planning to speak to the medic, and then think about a good dinner, the time for which was fast approaching. Luckily, they'd managed to find a place to stay for the night in the fortress and didn't have to look for accommodation somewhere in the city. Earl wouldn't have been at all keen on staying in a suspicious and unfamiliar place. Well, the citadel might not be entirely suitable either... he thought, recalling the unpleasant situation at the entrance to the enclave. The very thought of the vials of the drug gave him an unpleasant cramp in his stomach, but he decided to wait on this matter until he had all the witnesses and suspects in place.
'It seems someone wanted to see you, Colonel.' Rex positioned himself to block the chamberlain's path slightly and prevent him from approaching Darius.
Bleist looked at the halfling, trying to keep a cool, impassive expression. As far as he was concerned, he didn't care much what the governor's right-hand man had to say, and Murphy was the same, but given the impending need to clash with the local administration, it was better not to give them any extra ammunition ahead of time.
The corporal cleared his throat, trying to hurry Burtch along, who merely flushed and spoke, almost hissing through clenched teeth.
'Our fortunate, merciful and benevolent ruler, the much-praised, great Governor of Bushtabhar, Sean Murphy, invites the honourable colonel to dinner this evening at the governor's palace.' The words barely passed the halfling's lips.
'We still have a lot of work ahead of us today, and then some rest after the journey,' replied Darius. 'We'll be busy over the next few days, so it's hard to say when we'll be able to accept such a generous invitation.' Bleist managed to hold back a more scathing remark. 'Nevertheless, please thank the governor and assure him we shall meet.' Earl smiled faintly and turned on his heel towards the other end of the corridor. As he walked away, he could still hear a faint argument behind him. Oh, how good it is that someone else will deal with that buffoon.
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Darius hadn't got very far before stopping at the nearest junction of corridors, out of the chamberlain's sight. He breathed heavily and glanced at the Guards who were following him step for step. Perhaps it was for the best that he couldn't quite make out their faces at that moment. He merely shook his head and leaned against the cool wall.
'Colonel, please forgive me for interrupting.' Lieutenant Al-Satar emerged from behind the bend with a somewhat grim expression. 'I think it will take your deputy quite some time yet to get rid of Burtch. That halfling can be a terrible nuisance.' The garrison commander seemed to want to apologise, but in truth he didn't really have anything to apologise for. 'Allow me to be your guide, and someone else will escort the corporal. Please, come along.' A slight, though this time genuine, smile appeared on his face.
Bleist had no objection, so he accepted the offer, and within moments they were climbing the narrow steps of the tower that jutted out furthest towards the lake, or so the lieutenant's explanations suggested. All the while, they passed massive doors leading to the lower floors, until finally, at the top of the stairs, they found the bedroom that had been prepared earlier. The small, oval room contained only the bare essentials: a bed, a chair, a small table and a large chest. The shabby walls with their small windows were a little eerie, but above all, they bore witness to the state of everything in Bushtabhar.
'Nice place.' Darius tried to be as polite as possible.
'It needs a bit of a refurbishment, but everything is kept in good condition nonetheless.'
'A keep by the lake.' Drius walked over to one of the small windows and looked down. The view of the lake and the savannah would have been breathtaking, were it not for the heat pouring in through the opening.
'Part of the first fortification built here, successively expanded into the shape of the present citadel.' The lieutenant looked around, pausing for a moment to glance at the Guards accompanying them. 'The entire tower is at your disposal, Colonel. There is only one entrance here.' He pointed down at the staircase. 'It is also impossible to get inside through the windows or any other openings. The roof is solid, topped by a decorative dome.' The officer listed the features.
'Thank you for pointing out these advantages. Unfortunately, I understand they may be necessary?' Bleist neither asked nor stated.
'Please forgive me, but… there have been all sorts of things happening in our enclave recently.' Al-Satar let out a sigh and slumped, as if he'd suddenly aged. The weight of his responsibilities and lack of sleep were etched on his face. When he stopped putting on a brave face, he looked like a man weighed down by a multitude of problems. 'The murder of that... boy you asked about isn't the first, nor the most horrific incident of its kind.' He looked at Darius and, encouraged by a nod, continued. 'I won't claim that everything has been running smoothly since Sean Murphy became governor here. Quite the contrary. Everyone soon began to miss Kamal Solimal, a very cautious diplomat and conservative. At first, Murphy was just a paranoid man who trusted no one but his own subordinates. In fact, it was they who quickly replaced all the key officials.' A heavy sigh gave voice to long-simmering discontent. 'One could have put up with the fact that soldiers were being replaced by mercenaries from Count Murphy's lands, that officials had been swapped for those loyal to the new governor, or even the cutbacks to the citadel's funding. It was just that, after a few years, everything began to change.' The officer shook his head wearily. It was clear that the words did not come easily to him, but on the other hand, he was determined to finish what he had started. 'Money from taxes and levies was vanishing into thin air, mercenaries were increasingly refusing to renew their contracts, and all charges were going up. Not long after, the governor began construction of his residence. It became clear where the funds were coming from, but there was no point in asking. Murphy himself announced that the estate was to serve both representative and defensive functions, so the old one had to be demolished and a new one built. Once the palace stood, alcohol flowed into its cavernous cellars. After that, it's just a tale of decline. And with every passing day, things get worse.' Al-Satar fell silent, staring at the floorboards. 'Since the start of this year, however, it's been even worse. The weakened security has attracted bandits, who've started raiding caravans. We haven't been able to track them down and get rid of them.' He raised his downcast eyes. 'I don't have enough men, about a thousand for the whole enclave. We can't even protect the city itself, let alone the enclave.' He snorted in embarrassment. 'The robbers banded together and attacked with increasing audacity, but it turned out there were too many of them. They began to quarrel amongst themselves and fight over territory. In February, I received the first report of a massacre in the desert. Thirty-odd bodies, mutilated, bearing numerous signs of struggle, stripped of everything that could be taken from them and abandoned on the dunes. A nasty sight.' He lowered his gaze. 'And the governor wasn't even interested. He waved it off, merely stating that they wouldn't come here anyway. The second, third, tenth time, it was the same. Later, I started writing daily reports.'
'Do you expect me to do something about it, Lieutenant?'
'No, not at all.' The officer smiled slightly. 'It's enough that you know who you're going to have to deal with.' Al-Satar looked Darius in the eye. 'Remember that in the governor's palace, loneliness is the most dangerous thing of all.'
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Bleist had lost all enthusiasm for anything, but waiting was not an option either. As soon as the irritated Rex appeared in the tower assigned to them, the earl issued his orders regarding the plan for the coming days. The Ruby Guards, or rather four of them, were to guard their temporary residence to ensure that no documents or evidence fell into the wrong hands. The remaining two, along with Rex, were to accompany Darius, just in case. No one wanted any more trouble than they had already encountered. Meanwhile, the members of the Azure Guard were tasked with gauging the mood in the city and verifying the information available in the archives. That very afternoon, everyone set to work.
The colonel was just entering the vast temple of all the gods, wondering once again why it had to fall to him of all people. He could have had far simpler problems. He could have kept a low profile in some cushy post, yet he had decided to throw himself into the world of intelligence, so alluring as it was in those days. Sometimes a mistake, sometimes an advantage. This gloomy thought was just one of many that had crossed his mind before.
Darius looked around, searching for someone who might direct him to a medic. The interior of the sanctuary looked rather interesting. Given the temple's external structure and appearance, he had expected it to be full of pomp and splendour, yet the reality was quite the opposite. The interior was sparsely furnished, almost ascetic. The walls and floor were made of smooth sandstone devoid of any additional ornamentation. Opposite the entrance, at the end of the main nave, stood a marble altar covered with a golden cloth, and behind it rose a gilded statue of Solas with a raised sword. The statue might have inspired awe, but Bleist had seen far more beautiful and majestic ones in his life. Unusually, black shrines to Direl and Tanatos were placed halfway along the building, on opposite sides of the main nave. An indispensable element of the faith.
Earl finally spotted someone. In the centre of the temple, an elderly priest in a white and gold robe was making his way towards them. It was hard not to notice that he was heading specifically for them.
'Greetings, honourable guests, to the threshold of the Temple of Bushtabhar,' said the old man rather quietly. 'I am the archdeacon of this community, Dimitrus Galis, at your service.'
'Greetings, Archdeacon. I am Darius Bleist, Colonel of the Azure Guard and Military Advisor to the Grand Master.' Darius bowed politely. 'I apologise for taking up your time, but I would like to ask about the local surgeon.'
'The surgeon. . . Ah, yes, Erthvat Oxern.' The priest visibly brightened. 'He is a fine specialist who helps the poor.'
'Where might we find him?'
'Over there, where he helps the faithful.' The priest pointed to one of the gathered groups. 'Though I haven't seen Oxern for some time,' he admitted with a look of consternation. 'It's possible he isn't here at the moment. He sometimes goes to help our faithful in their homes.' The smile on the old man's face gave no cause for concern. 'If you're keen to meet him, I invite you to pray for greater patience.'