For two days we traveled unimpeded. I sat atop my elemental as it crashed through trees and rocks with equal nonchalance.

There were several traps, from pitfalls to magical wards, that were set off by its movement, but none of them caused it to even slow let alone be damaged.

From my perch, I used air elementals to monitor the surroundings. A few miles to either side of the army train, scouts from both sides engaged in quick and deadly skirmishes. When I could, I used an air elemental to shake branches or bushes to alert our scouts to hidden enemies. In one instance, I had found one of the enemy’s slave-priests, and didn’t hesitate to have them lift the woman and drop her from high in the air.

We had camped for night, and I could see the walls of Gold Castle when standing atop my elemental.

The army moved slower than I did, but we would arrive sometime in the afternoon tomorrow. The campsite tonight was little more than the road we stopped on, but my assistants had placed my pavilion near the front of the train. Around it, other mages placed their tents in what some might call a circular manner. If they were blind.

As had been the case for the previous night, Jax and Philipe had prepared a stone table and benches for the evening meal. The fare was decent for army food, and my station allowed me and the others to dine on roast pheasant and potatoes instead of the gruel the standard soldiers ate. A blueberry wine was served with it, but was too tart for my tastes.

Seated around the table were all three of my assistants, the [Witch] Loralie, and the [Pyromancer] Diedre. Mena and Meathead also joined us at my request, as I had a plan for the evening conversation and wasn’t certain how well it would go.

The meal began normally, with the various pleasantries and small talk that accompanied such events, but it was only partway through the meal that I drew everyone’s attention.

“Miss Diedre, I fear that I have not done right by you,” I began. The words weren’t spoken loudly, but they did have the effect of silencing all but Meathead’s loud chewing. I then went on to explain the effects of the Asrid Flower Tea, and how she had been unknowingly subjected to those effects over the last several meals. I could have kept silent, but, knowing I poisoned her with the same thing I had been, made my stomach churn at night.

When I stopped talking and looked at the woman, I had been expecting anger and outrage at my deception.

I’d even prepared defensive measures for the others should she grow violent. Instead, she thumped her hand on the table several times and burst with uproarious laughter. The reaction wasn’t anywhere close to what I expected and she was wiping tears away before she finished laughing.

“Wizard Fargus,” she began with the first honest smile I’d seen on the woman. “Your price is loyalty for what I want?” She shook her head and her smile grew to a more malicious grin. “I simply want to kill Mirktalleans. I would pledge you any oath, give you my body for pleasure, sell my very soul for the vengeance I seek. Loyalty? Dead Seagods, that is the least you could ask of me.”

I tapped my fingers on the table as I considered her words. The others around me all remained silent as they too processed everything that had been said, from the tea to her vulgar offer. All except one man.

“True,” Meathead chimed in.

His enormous bulk was slouched over the table as he picked up the pheasant so he could eat more quickly using his hands. The whole bird, he hadn’t bothered with pulling it apart.

I could see that he hadn’t changed much over his journey, which was a small comfort.

I glanced around the table, but none of the others seemed to be prepared to respond. When my eyes returned to meet Diedre’s gaze, I could see by the intensity in her eyes that she was willing to challenge me or anyone else for this opportunity. Or perhaps, that intensity was madness. Sometimes, it was difficult to tell.

“I see,” I said, and went back to eating. It was a subdued dining experience after that.

Gold Castle was an ostentatious name for a rather normal town. Stone walls circled it at twice the height of a man with a covered wooden walkway built atop. A small keep, the size of a large inn at most, stood in the center of the town. It stood out among the other buildings mostly because it was painted bright orange. The color did make me wonder if the color was the reason for the town’s name or the town’s name the reason for the color.

The afternoon sun beat down on my brow by the time I made it to the town’s gates. Behind me, the mages and soldiers seemed to walk a bit faster now that they had their destination in sight. The townsfolk crowded the guards along the wall as they cheered our arrival with happy hoots and loud whistles. I took in the sight of the over-crowded wall, and the overcrowded town behind it from atop my elemental for a moment, and then flew down to stand in front of the gates.

There, I was joined by Count Wilchrest and a serious-looking Baroness Nix.

The Count dressed resplendently in his shining armor, but the Baroness still wore her adventurer’s garb, setting them in clear contrast to one another. I hadn’t changed the feathered robe I left the tower in, keeping only to cleaning spells so that the mages in the army that didn’t recognize me by my face would recognize me by my robe.

The heavy wooden gates before us weren’t made from processed lumber. Instead, I could tell by the bark that still covered the trunks, that they were recently cut from the nearby forest. The three of us didn’t wait long for the gates to open and several nobles greeted us. Guards that wore chainmail armor and coifs surrounded us all and kept the excited crowd back.

A proud and well-dressed man that had similar facial features to my seneschal was the first to step out of the town. Following him were a woman that appeared to be his wife, another that looked to be his mother, and five children of various ages. They weren’t all. There were guards walking amongst this family, as well as several well-dressed or armored men that were likely either smaller noble houses or officers of some kind.

The introductions were made swiftly, as the air had grown uncomfortably hot, and the forces of our army were invited inside to camp on the streets. Even the largest warehouse in town was already bursting with refugees. The three of us, however, were led through the town to the keep, and then further inside to a dining hall where a feast had been prepared in honor of our arrival. Our arrival was seen as fortuitous because Count Wilchrest had not sent word ahead for fear the enemy would seize any messenger.

The feast hall was a long room with three large circular tables filled with food. The walls were the same stone as the rest of the keep but painted a light blue color. Portraits and banners hung on these walls, though they were more scenic paintings that demonstrated the Aide’s wealth than remembrances of lost family. A huge stone hearth was built into the far wall, and I could smell servants roasting cuts of meats and baking loaves of bread. In a far corner, a pale woman strummed on a harp without concern for melody.

Most of the nobility crowded around the table furthest from the hearth, no doubt wishing to forget the heat of the day. I didn’t even bother to feign interest in the matters of state they discussed, once Baron Aide recognized Count Wilchrest’s claim to title and governance. Or, in particular, his mother did. The crone seemed to be the true head of the family, for all her age had left her back hunched. Instead, I partook of the local wines and cheeses at the second table, in attempt to find solace for myself.

The roasted goat was particularly flavorful, and I passed the time nodding at what I had thought were lesser nobility when we met them at the gates introduced themselves to me. Instead of being lesser nobility, they were the heads of four different mercenary companies hired for the town's defense. The Aide family were upraised merchants who bought their titles, and their history of golden pockets was a mighty lure.

Two companies of archers each represented by a different brother, a company of spearman led by the shortest human I had ever met, and a cadre of mages that I wouldn’t allow to learn at the Arcanum all came to me one after the other to interrupt my self-imposed distance. Some local merchant who was appointed head of a large amount of barely armed conscripted townsfolk and refugees also introduced himself, but he begged for supplies rather than attention.

I found it too tedious to remember their names, and simply mumbled when they sought answers from me.

Not that they asked many questions in their misdirected competition to impress me. Each of the four was eager to tell me of their company’s exploits.

They spoke over, under, and around each other in attempts to regale me, and I was almost to the point of silencing them all with magic when a sweaty runner burst into the feast hall to interrupt us all with news.

The Mirktallean armies could be seen on the horizon and were converging on the town. They would arrive as early as tomorrow.