Thegn's daughter?

The old dwarf chewed his lip again as he considered. “Aethlin’?”

Ami’s jaw tightened. “Aye.”

He straightened and gave a small bow. “Forgive me, Aethlin’. I didna recognize ye.”

Ami flushed.

“I’m sorry, Aethlin’ Heathstone. My orders are ta keep this gate closed. No exceptions.”

Ami deflated.

Then a cunning grin spread across the old dwarf’s face. “But that donna mean I canna open that wee door over there fer ye.”

Ami blinked, confused for a moment, before her face split into a huge grin. She looked back at us, and her smile was infectious. There was no way Valentia and I could do anything but return it.

The three of us headed toward the little door.

Ami passed through without issue. Valentia followed. I had to duck.

I smiled to myself. I'd never had to duck through a door before.

The old dwarf introduced himself as Castellan Bertrand and guided us to a room where we could clean up. He also had food brought to us.

“So,” I said. “Daughter of a thegn. That sounds important.”

Ami didn't look at me. “Not when yer the third daughter.” Her voice was flat. She looked distinctly uncomfortable with the whole situation.

“I appreciate what you've done, Ami.” I meant it. I couldn't stop thinking about what would happen to the girls once I was dead. I just hoped coming back here hadn't caused Ami any problems with her family.

Again, the food wasn't extravagant, but after days of dried meat, a bit of fresh fruit, goat cheese, and fresh bread tasted like heaven.

After about two hours, once we'd had time to wash up and eat, we went to see Bertrand.

His office was an immaculate, utilitarian place that probably didn't see much use. There were papers on his desk, sure, but they were neatly stacked, collated, and divided between things that were done and things that weren't. The unfinished stack was nearly empty.

The old dwarf rose from his chair as we entered and bowed. “I apologize again, Aethlin’ Heathstone, fer not recognizing ye. We've had our hands full the past few weeks.”

“I apologize fer... introducing meself that way.” Ami shifted uncomfortably. “We're in a rush ta get ta Aurelmont, and I dinna expect the gates ta be closed.”

“I dinna expect ta have ta close 'em. But orders are orders.”

“Why are the gates closed, if ye donna mind me askin', Castellan?” Ami tried to sound confident and regal. I'm not sure how well it came across.

“Before I answer that, why donna ye tell me about yer friends? I dinna expect an Aethlin’ ta be travellin' with a human and half-elf.”

Ami raised an eyebrow. “This is Valentia. We met in Greyhaven about six months ago. We've been adventurin' since. Greyhaven... burned down. Attacked by Fleshwood. I weren't there, but I saw the flames and smoke. Valentia and Riven managed ta escape.”

She gestured toward me. “Riven I met a week past. ‘E saved our lives thrice. Lutins, a vampire, and somethin' called a Skinthief.”

Bertrand leaned forward at that last word. “Skinthief, ye say? Whereabouts?”

“Two days back, along the King's Road,” Ami replied. “Came at us at night, lookin' like Riven.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked at me. “Yer sure he's ‘im?”

“Aye. Skinthief's dead, and Riven's Riven. I give ye me word.”

“Dead, ye say? How?”

“Fire,” I replied. “They're weak against it. Resistant to lightning.”

Bertrand sat back and chewed his lip again. “Got people disappearin' on both sides ‘a the gate. Had a caravan come through t'other week with a lad swore ‘e was from Varenne. 'Cept Varenne fell ta plague thirty years back, and no one’s lived there since.”

He paused. “Yesterday, a patrol came back with a lad I dinna recognize. Rest a the lads swore ‘e'd been stationed here fer a month, but I know all the lads here, and ‘e weren't one a 'em.”

“What did you do with him?” I asked.

“He's in the brig.”

I looked at Ami and Valentia. “Can we see him?”

The old dwarf gave me a hard look for several moments before finally relaxing. “Donna see why not. ‘E's behind bars, and I'll have me men with ye.”

I gave him a nod.

“What about the other lads in the patrol?” Ami asked.

“Light duty 'til we know which way the axe is fallin'.”

The Castellan rose from his chair and led us out of his office toward a short, squat building. “Yer with us, Irongbrow,” he said to the guard outside.

The dwarf fell into step behind us.

Inside was a short corridor with a door on either side. A single guard stood at the far end.

“Deepforge, yer with us,” the Castellan told him.

He, too, fell into step behind us.

The six of us went through the door on the right, which led to a room with two cells, each separated by thick iron bars.

Inside one of them sat a dwarven man, probably around thirty years old. His brown hair and light-brown eyes marked him as a hill dwarf. For the most part, he looked completely ordinary - from his features to his uniform.

“Finally,” he said, irritation threaded through his voice.

“You know him?” I asked.

“'Course I do. Everyone knows the Castellan,” Henri said.

“Lad, I've never seen ye in me life,” Bertrand replied.

“I've been stationed here fer a month, sir. I know yer wife died twelve years ago. I know where ye sit at dinner. I know ye hate mushrooms. And I know ye've got arthritis in yer left knee.”

Bertrand's expression hardened.

I looked back at the prisoner. “Where were you stationed before this?”

“Here.”

“Before that?” I pressed.

“Redfield.”

“How long?”

“Three years.”

I gestured toward Ami. “Do you recognize this woman?”

“Aye. Amelie Heathstone.”

Ami stiffened. “How do ye know my name?”

The soldier smiled. “Yer the daughter of Thegn Heathstone.”

“How in the Deep do ye know that?” Bertrand demanded.

The soldier looked confused. “Everyone knows that.”

I put my hand on Valentia's shoulder. “What about her?”

“I've seen ye before, lass.”

Valentia narrowed her eyes. “Where?”

“Greyhaven.” His answer was simple.

“I've never seen you before.”

“You sure about that, lass?”

Surprise flashed across Valentia's face before her expression hardened. “Positive,” she spat.

The soldier shrugged.

I stepped between him and Valentia. “Try that again and I'll kill you.”

I cast Flame Ward. Not because I needed the protection. For the effect.

Red flames rose around me, licking across my skin and clothes without damaging them. It wasn't a big explosion or especially flashy, but I was pretty sure it got the point across.

Something akin to fear briefly flashed across the soldier's features before being smothered.

“Deep and Dark!” Bertrand exclaimed as he stepped back.

The two guards drew their axes.

“Stand down,” Ami commanded.

The guards looked to the Castellan. He nodded.

They relaxed their stances, though they continued to watch me warily.

“We're done here,” I announced. I glanced at Valentia and Ami.

They nodded and left the room.

I turned to follow, the flames around me fading, but made sure I was the last one out.

“See ye ‘round, Wayfarer,” the dwarf said.

I stopped. Slowly, I turned around.

He was still sitting in the cell. Watching me.

I said nothing.

Neither did he.

I closed the door behind me and turned toward Bertrand. “Castellan, I suggest you change out these two guards and bring in someone who hasn't had any interaction with the prisoner.”

I sighed. “I also suggest you don't let anyone anywhere near him. He's got some kind of mind-control power. Probably used it to alter the memories of the men in your patrol.”

Bertrand paled. “Ye sure, lad?”

I nodded. “Positive. I have no idea who he's been able to affect, what he's done, or how his ability works. I just know he tried to use it on Valentia while we were in there.”

“It's true,” Valentia confirmed. “The System detected it when it tried to affect me.”

“The System's not foolproof,” I told him. “As far as I can tell, that's Henri Stonehand in there. I assume that's who he said he was. There's nothing telling me he's anything but that.”

I looked toward the door. “But he's clearly more than he appears. Between the mind control and him calling me Wayfarer...”

“He what?” Ami shouted.

“As I left the room, that's what he called me.” I turned back to Bertrand. “I think he's a danger, sir. And I don't think you're prepared to deal with whatever danger he'll bring. If he sits in there for long enough, everyone in this outpost could be dancing to whatever tune he plays.”

“Bloody depths,” the old dwarf swore. He pointed toward the two guards. “Irongbrow. Deepforge. Yer on gate duty. Send Flintson an’ Silverhand ta replace ye.”

The two dwarves headed toward the gate.

The Castellan frowned. “No one in or out. I'll send word ta the Holds tonight.” He paused. “Yer right. We canna trust 'im. If we try ta execute 'im, there's no tellin' what ‘e'd do ta me men.”

He looked toward the brig. “I'll also have me men write down what they did today. If they remember somethin' else come tomorrow, we've got a bigger problem.”

He looked at us. “Yer stayin' tonight? It's already dark.”

I looked at Ami.

She nodded. “If it's no inconvenience, sir.”

“None at all, Aethlin’. I'll have rooms made up fer ye.” He gave us a tired smile. “And I appreciate yer help.”