Dance Macabre: Tales from a Cursed Land

X: The Dark Lords (3/4)

So it was just the two of them when they arrived to the baron's castle. It was an impressive building, at least three floors high and made entirely of solid rock, in the middle of a large town. The town in question was strangely quiet, though. There were people, but they didn't look like they wanted to remain on the streets any longer than they had to. There was no lively chatter between neighbors either, no merchants selling their wares as they rode through town.

Saska's hand fell to one of his knife-pockets. "I don't like this," he murmured.

"They're afraid of something." Raviel slowly surveyed their surroundings. "But what?"

"I don't sense anything dangerous. But still..."

Raviel urged their horse to walk a little faster. "Let's hurry."

The entrance to the castle was guarded by a single soldier in worn armor. "What is your business here?" he asked, his grip on his spear tightening slightly.

"We wish to see the baron," Raviel replied calmly.

Now they were met with a very suspicious stare. "Why?"

"It is a little complicated."

The soldier sighed. "Well, if you're sure..."

He pushed one half of the gate open. It hadn't even been locked. "Hey!" he called inside.

Two other soldiers engaged in a game of dice grudgingly abandoned their pastime and approached them.

"Those ruffians will take care of your weapons while you visit the baron. And that lazy excuse for a stable boy should be somewhere too." Then he closed the gate as soon as Raviel and Saska were inside.

Raviel surrendered his sword without a fuss. Saska "forgot" to mention his throwing knives. The soldiers didn't even bother to search them. Maybe they didn't really care.

A timid-looking male servant led them inside the castle. He stopped in front of the door to the baron's personal quarters, inhaled deeply and knocked.

There was no reply.

Looking to all appearances ready to bolt, the servant opened the door slowly. "My lord?"

The baron was an old, unnaturally gaunt man. What remained of his graying hair clung to his scalp in a sweaty mess. His skin was pale, like he had been sick for a long time. He was sitting in a plush chair near a large stained glass window, staring out of it. Whether he actually saw whatever he was looking at was debatable. At least to Raviel he looked like a man long gone.

He roused suddenly at the servant's words and quickly corrected his posture. "Did you bring guests? Go on, show them in!"

"Please try not to upset him," the servant whispered as he ushered Raviel in.

Saska followed at the elf's heels. He was once again invisible in comparison.

Raviel bowed deeply in greeting. "My name is Raviel and-"

"Hold on," the baron interrupted him. "Who is that with you? Come closer, boy."

Saska slowly moved to the elf's side. Could this old man somehow know he was an Outcast just by looking at him?

"Thomas?" the baron breathed out, torn between hope and disbelief, and pushed himself to stand up with the assistance of his cane. Why hadn't the servants told him that his son had returned home?

Saska took a cautious step back as the almost wraith-like man approached him with unsteady gait.

The baron did not stop until he was right in front of the boy. He slowly caressed his face. "Finally...finally you came home...I wish your mother would still be here to see you..."