A Million Roads to Nowhere

A Warm Welcome at Chourmondeley Keep

The ride to Chourmondeley is chilly, but not hardly as cold as it had been trekking through the Pink. Everybody trudges along, all waiting impatiently to get to their destination. A place where they can stay and rest longer than two days is a godsend, even though the company may not prove to be.

As Clementine predicted, Chourmondeley is about an even two days away from where her connection had been able to get them to. When Patrick sees the looming castle in the distance, the relief is far more prominent than the creeping anxiety curled up along his spine.

Approaching the castle gives Patrick a sense of deja vu, reminding him of going to Verthollow that day in spring. Now, he feels only tired of this journey. Not for the first time, Patrick wishes he and Lena hadn't gone so far out into the woods that day. They could have run away in a somewhat normal fashion instead of getting sucked into... whatever this is.

Lena, whose anger has mostly faded, holds Patrick's hand tightly as they dismount their horses. She's not letting anyone else see it, but Patrick knows she's scared. He squeezes her hand comfortingly and she squeezes back. When she doesn't pull away, Patrick realizes how deep her fear is reaching.

Aodhan and Signe approach the gate with Clementine standing off to the side next to them. Clementine's arms are crossed and she stares icily at the guard on top of the tower.

The gate is just as simple as the one that guarded Verthollow, but it's not to be underestimated. A large, glittering red jewel is set right above the lock and various sigils are carved into the stone pillars on either side of it. Patrick recognizes a few- rose and iron makes a protection spell- but most of them are foreign and more complicated than any of the spells Patrick had studied with Alistair.

The bricks making up the wall around the main castle are thick and rusted from saltwater. The entire castle sits precariously on a cliff. On the way up, Patrick wondered if the entire building would end up falling into the ocean give another hundred years.

Golden banners emblazoned with roses tied around wolves hang from the open windows. In the watchtowers, men with crossbows stand and inspect the group of newcomers. A few of the men point downward, making gestures with their hands.

Aodhan addresses the men at the gate. "I'm the shaman Aodhan, Rozenn's healer. I ask for leave to enter."

One of the soldiers climbs down from the tower, but makes no move to unlock the gate. A few more men follow suit, hands on the hilt of their swords. Patrick finds this a bit amusing; what are they going to do, attack them through the gate? It's a silly notion, but the soldiers don't look to be much older than Patrick, so it's likely they haven't had much experience prior to this.

"The Lady said you were indisposed."

Aodhan's eyes flick sharply over to the man who had spoken, but that is the only betrayal of his feelings toward this matter. Patrick starts to worry. Rozenn didn't even bother to go searching for him, did she?

"I'm not," Aodhan answers sharply. "I demand entry."

"You are in no place to demand anything."

Clementine steps closer from her spot by the wall, sapphire eyes glinting in the sunlight.

"Was he replaced?" she inquires.

He looks at her warily, clenching the hilt of his sword so tightly his knuckles turn white.

"No, m'lady."

"Was he formally denounced as a traitor?"

"No, m'lady."

"By custom, he still retains his position of power. That, if you don't know, means he still retains his right to order you about, to an extent. Unless Rozenn says that he no longer holds his position, he still holds said position. I suggest you open this gate and send a messenger to your lady. Tell him her healer has returned and that Clementine wishes to speak with her."