Chapter 1

Garman strode down the hall of the Brookmoor estate, his ears still ringing, while the missive he was supposed to deliver was clutched tightly in his hand. He had just left a meeting with the Earl, never a pleasant experience at the best of times. The older man’s mood had declined even further with the report that his youngest son was still missing.

The large warrior winced as he recalled the tongue lashing he had just received, the Earl’s voice booming as he blamed him, and his other retainers, for the failure to discover Wilhelm’s whereabouts. Still, he preferred the Earl’s anger over Tabitha’s silent stare, her eyes like icy daggers staring into his soul.

The youngest Brookmoor was viper, poisonous and deadly. Worst was her unpredictability, she could shrug off the largest of concerns, while throwing a fit over the tiniest details. He’d be thankful when this wedding was over with, and the snake was someone else’s problem.

Which led to his current dilemma. The wedding wouldn’t take place without all three of the Earl’s children present. Markus had gotten married behind his father’s back, and he wouldn’t let it happen a second time.

The twenty-five-year-old Tabitha was marrying into the Emperor’s household, to the third Prince, the youngest and most ambitious of the royal brothers. Garman almost pitied the man, until he had heard the rumors. The two were peas in a pod, sociopaths both. Still, she would be away from him, and he could finally relax, no longer expecting a dagger in the back or a fireball dropped onto his head.

Grumbling, he made his way down the hall, nodding at the other guards or servants that crossed his path. He had been here over seven years, and despite the Earl and his daughter, it was the closest thing he had to a home. He had even met his wife here, raising a family that he never thought he would have.

Looking for Kellerman, Garman left the manor house from the back entrance, looking for the Guard Captain in the training grounds, past the gardens. Following the sound of clashing metal and shouted curses, he soon found the man.

Kellerman was Rank 7, the strongest guard on the estate, aside from the Rank 8 Garman. They had grown close over the years, the only person with whom he could share his frustrations about the job, and a drink when the day was done.

The guard captain stood in front of a young recruit, his shield raised while he provided guidance to a Rank 1 junior guard.

“Strike! Again! Let one attack flow into another, don’t lose your momentum!” Kellerman shouted as the young man slashed with his sword, following an overhand chop with a horizontal slice of his blade. Each blow rang out against the shield, sending sparks as metal struck metal.

Kellerman spotted his large friend entering the training grounds, his face a thundercloud of anger. Deciding to end the training early, he deflected the next attack with his shield, jarring the sword out of the recruit’s hand, before sweeping the young man’s legs out from under him.

“We’ll end here today. I want you practicing your basic sword stances every morning for the next week, we’ll spar again once you do.” Kellerman said, holding out a hand to help the recruit to his feet. Ignoring the young man’s response, he turned and walked towards Garman.

“Alright Garman? What’s got your knickers in a twist?” He joked, slapping the large man on his shoulder.

“The Earl. This is the latest report from Lund.” Garman said, showing his friend the missive. Unfolding the parchment, and smoothing out the wrinkles from Garman’s grip, Kellerman read through the report. His expression grew darker as he read, before shaking his head once he finished.

“Still nothing? We’ve sent dozens of people into the Wilds looking for Wil, and we still can’t find him?” Kellerman said, refolding the paper and handing it back.

“The Earl feels that the adventurers we’ve hired are not up to the task.” Garman spat out. The Earl had used more colorful words, but the point remained the same.

“And who else would be, besides them? They’re the only ones to ever set foot there. What does he expect, for you and I to go traipsing around the Wilds, calling out for Wil?” Kellerman scoffed.

“He thinks the Guild may be covering for the lad. He’s a member after all, and his mentor isn’t being helpful at all. I know she’s in contact with him, Amora all but admitted it the last time the Earl spoke to her.” Garman responded, leading his friend away from the training ground and towards his office.

The barracks was located close enough to the manor for security, but far enough away from the estate that they were granted some privacy. Garman’s office was on the ground floor, a well-lit room with a large desk and multiple chairs. Most importantly, a bottle of whiskey was already waiting on the table, with a set of clean glasses.

Pouring one for Kellerman, he handed it to the man, before turning to grab one for himself.

“At least the City Lord is cooperative. He wants to find that Tiefling as badly as we want Wil.” Kellerman said, leaning back on his chair and taking a sip of his drink.

“Unless that’s what he wants us to think. I don’t trust any of the Lundians. His daughter was sweet on the lad, saw it with my own eyes when we were in the foreigner’s port.” Garman settled into his chair, a contented sigh escaping his lips at the relief to be off his feet.

“Well, that was years ago. I doubt a fling would outweigh their desire to find the Tiefling and put an end to this ‘supposed’ threat. I think Wil was right to leave, crazy bastards wanted to kill a child! Smartest thing he did was get out of Ur.” Kellerman scowled at the thought of what they wanted to do. No wonder Wil had taken the child and fled.

“Maybe you can tell him that when you see him again.” Garman said, draining his glass and pouring himself another. “The Earl wants some of us to travel to Lund and bring him back. Naturally, I volunteered for you. Said you’ve been dying to see the world.”

“Bullshit!” Kellerman exclaimed, choking on his whiskey. Coughing, he wiped his lips with the sleeve of his coat. “How about you? You’re the one who’s been there before. If anyone should go, it’s you.”

“I agree, as does our Lord.” A voice rang out from the doorway before Garman could respond. Greaves, the Earl’s closest retainer, stepped into the room. Striding confidently to the bottle of whiskey, he poured himself a drink from the single remaining glass.

“Couldn’t let me string him along for a bit longer, huh?” Garman joked, gesturing for the older man to take a seat.

“It seemed cruel.” Greaves responded, sitting in the remaining chair, his back straight and posture perfect.

“So, you’re going to Lund? Who are you taking along?” Kellerman asked, relieved that he wouldn’t be forced to make the almost six-month long journey from Illyria to Ur. Unless the Earl would splurge on a teleportation array, cutting that travel time down to a few hours.

“No one. I’m teleporting to Elbing, I’ll catch a ride with an old friend once I’m there.” Garman responded, looking forward to seeing Bell again. They had kept in touch, the old man even traveled to Brookmoor to see him a couple years ago.

Bell had told him that their fleet’s newest ships could do the trip to Lund in a matter of weeks, rather than months. Combined with another teleportation spell at the Foreigner’s Port to get him to Ur, he could be home in a month.

“I suggest you avoid the Guild until you arrive in Ur. Amora Magehand claims to have no contact with Wil, but we all know she’s lying.” Greaves said, placing his empty glass on the desk and waving off the offer for a refill. “We don’t want her warning him that we’re coming. It will only drive him deeper into the Wilds.”

“What about the crew you’ll be traveling with across the Azure Sea? Any possibility they’ll tell Wil you’re coming?” Kellerman asked.

“No chance, they want the lad back as much as we do. Quentin was livid when she heard what happened to him. Heard she tore a strip off the City Lord of Ur, they had to escort her out kicking and screaming. Even slapped the daughter, if the rumors are true.” Garman answered.

“Not surprised, I would have done worse, if I had been with him.” Greaves said, frowning. He had watched Wil grow up, changing from a spoiled brat into a competent young man. They all wanted him back, although for different reasons from the Earl and his daughter. Even Markus longed to see him again, the brothers had grown closer since Aachen.

As far as he knew, Wil hadn’t had any contact with anyone since he fled into the Wilds, with the exception of Amora, and that could never be proven. Still, the Auguries they performed said that he was alive, and in good health, which provided some small comfort.

The Earl, on the other hand, had made it clear that Wil’s actions was an embarrassment to their name. First running away to Lund, then disappearing into the Wilds, it made the Earl look like a fool who couldn’t even control his own son. It was unacceptable.

“The spell will be ready tomorrow, I’ll bring you the funds you’ll need for the journey. Remember Garman, don’t return without him. Beg or plead, do whatever it takes. I don’t care if you have to catch him in a net and carry him home on your back. Wilhelm Brookmoor needs to return to Illyria.” Greaves ordered, finishing his drink, and standing up.

“Aye.” Garman said, already dreading that conversation.