Franco’s gloved fist reverberated against the wood outside the gate. The sun was just barely coming up above the mountains, and he’d managed to march his men here in secrecy, taking the Reinbahms completely unsuspecting. The treacherous family would have no time to prepare a convenient lie or hide that slippery son of a bitch.

Franco turned to the newest recruit, an olive skinned young man with a rather pathetic black mustache barely forming at the top of his lip. “Get the lever,” he said, watching the gawky young man nod emphatically and run away, his arms swinging outward like a woman’s.

Franco snorted, shaking his head. “Scraping the bottom of the barrel with that one,” he muttered to himself. Gerome, the page, had been a last minute replacement when Chase, a more experienced squire, had come down with the shits this morning.

Franco turned back to the gate and resumed battering the door, sending echoing knocks through the grassy countryside. “Open up, Reinbahm!” he shouted, his voice carrying across the gentle hills. “I’ve a warrant to search your Lordship’s castle!”

Lyle was halfway back with the lever to force the gate open, panting with exertion beneath the heavy iron bar, when the wooden gate let loose a klunk and groaned open, exposing the iron portcullis behind. Beyond that stood Firelle Reinbahm, his thumbs casually hooked into his belt.

There were no soldiers behind the aging baron, nor did he show any concern at the hundred men accompanying the High Inquisitor. “Your business here?” Firelle asked, his voice calm.

“I’ve a warrant signed by the king himself,” Franco said, brandishing the vellum in front of him like a powerful artifact, as though the steel of the portcullis would melt away from its splendor. “It stated you must submit immediately to a thorough investigation of your domain, followed by the seizure of any objects or persons I deem necessary.”

“My eyes aren’t as good as they used to be,” Firelle said, holding his hand out through the bars. “Let’s see it.”

Franco strutted forward, and placed the rolled document into the Baron’s hand. Firelle unrolled the warrant and began reading it, squinting his eyes. “Let’s see,” Firelle said, moving his lips as his gaze scanned along the flowing script.

Franco tapped his foot, waiting for the Baron to finish. Minutes had gone by when he finally lost his patience. “Well?” he demanded, his arms crossed.

“My apologies, High Inquisitor,” Firelle said, his eyebrows drawn together in consternation. “It’s dark behind this portcullis, and my eyes…” Firelle turned back and shouted back to the courtyard. “Could I get a lamp over here?”

Franco felt like he was going to explode, but eventually a young soldier in Firelle’s colors came with a lantern, and the Baron began reading the warrant again. “There are copies of that, in case you were getting any ideas.” Franco said, watching the lantern lean dangerously close to the vellum.

“Don’t insult me,” Firelle muttered as his gaze scanned the document. Finally he looked up and nodded, handing the warrant back to Franco. “That is indeed a warrant signed by the king, but it seems awfully… nonspecific.”

“Open the gate!” Firelle called over his shoulder. He turned back to Franco and regarded him with a cold smile. “I’m sure any investigation done by the High Inquisitor will only cement my innocence in whatever matter the king has an interest in here.”

“It better,” Franco said, stepping past the aging Baron and leading his men into the courtyard as soon as the portcullis had raised. “Thirty in the gatehouse, sixty in the courtyard, ten with me.” Franco secured their exit in case the Baron meant to trap them in the castle.

Marie stood in the center of the courtyard and curtsied as Franco ordered his men.”High inquisitor, what an unexpected visit,” She said, beaming at him. “To what do we owe the honor of your presence?”

“I’ll make this short, lady Reinbahm,” Franco said as Firelle came to stand beside his wife. “The Reinbahm family is suspected of harboring traitors to the crown.”

Marie’s smile froze on her face. “My, that is a serious accusation.” She said, glancing at her husband.

“Which is why I must receive your full cooperation, lest you paint yourselves implicitly guilty,” Franco said, glancing up and counting the men on the walls. “The first thing I’ll need is for you to muster your entire force in the courtyard, and then allow a thorough search of your castle.”

“I’d be happy to show you around,” Firelle offered, stepping forward.

“My apologies, Baron, but I’ve heard great things about your skill at illusion, and would much rather you stay here,” Franco said, watching the old man become predictably upset. “Your wife should know these halls as well as you, should she not?”

Firelle nodded, grimacing. The Baron’s discomfort made Franco want to gloat, but he reined in his smugness until he’d checkmated the old man and the fucking kid that made a fool of him. Franco had learned his lesson.

“Well then, lady Reinbahm, would you care to show me the Reinbahm Estate?” Franco asked, nodding to Marie.

“By your leave,” Marie said, curtsying once again, her fingers pale and trembling at the edge of her modest skirts. “Where do you wish to go first?”

“Records,” Franco said, a predatory smile coming to his face unconsciously. Marie nodded and guided Franco away, as the Baron and his thirty five men watched powerlessly. No one bothered to count the eleven men who followed the two of them into the halls of the castle.

**** Marie

Franco grunted, flipping through another ledger detailing Reinbahm family finances as the ten men around him pored through others, looking for any evidence of collusion against the crown. Franco was particularly interested in any mention of Toren. “Says here you were paid one hundred pounds of gold to ship your son off to the Lannores, to the east. Is that right?”

“A gift from the parents of his fiancée,” Marie said smoothly, holding her fingers to her temple. Changing the text of this six most incriminating books at once was giving her a headache. “It’s nothing out of the ordinary, my lord.”

“It’s High Inquisitor,” Franco said, his gaze following the entries down the page without finding anything else suspicious. Franco raised his eyes and met Marie Reinbahm’s matronly smile. “I understand, noble families do It all the time, especially with progeny as gifted as Toren. How did he feel about that arrangement?”

Marie’s expression soured. “I hardly think it matters now that my son took after me in that regard,” She said, her lips pressed into a thin line. “After all, you killed him.”

Franco kept Marie’s gaze for a moment longer before breaking away. “I suppose so madam,” he said, closing the ledger and placing on top of the growing stack of books. “I suppose I thought to find a motive for your son’s sudden treason. Behavior like that doesn’t just occur to teen boys. All they want to do is impress their friends and talk about getting laid, which leads me to believe he might have been getting his ideas from someone else.”

“Who do you think it was?” Marie asked, her impatience buried deep behind practiced innocence.

“To be frank, ma’am, I believe it was your husband.” Franco said. A delicate gasp came from Marie and she clapped her hands over her mouth.

She was resisting the urge to laugh.

“I believe he took advantage of Toren,” he said, beginning to pace the room. “Abusing the bond between father and son to angle for a higher position, I belive Firelle instructed Toren to assist the imposter and bind the Reinbahms to her fate. Come to think of it, it would be much more profitable for the boy to marry the future queen than it would be to sell him off to the edges of the kingdom as a stud.”

“Toren and his father hate each other.” Marie said.

“Maybe so, but if I find anything or anyone suspicious here, I’ll have all the proof I need,” Franco said, his gaze turning toward the door.“How about we do the rest of that tour now?”

Marie stiffened for an instant. The High inquisitor was looking for the girl, and it was true that there was no better evidence that he could use to bring down the Reinbahm family. Marie broke loose from her thoughts and curtsied.

“Right this way,” she said, leading the High inquisitor toward Squirrel’s room. She would show him the girl’s room first, using the last of her power to make the entire room appear empty, then allow him to snoop around the rest of the castle as she recovered. He would probably never backtrack to the first room she showed him, the man was a fool. He would believe she would delay showing him the girl as long as possible.

“We can start in this wing,” Marie said, pointing to Squirrel’s door as she laid down a powerful illusion behind it. The illusion would hide away everything but the walls while laying down phantasmagoric furniture. Marie recreated the room’s layout from memory, reconstructing it as though everything were normal, albeit a bit dusty. That way, only the girl and Gerald would be rendered undetectable. Marie didn’t want the High Inquisitor to trip over an invisible bed.

Marie turned the latch confidently, and swung the door open, gesturing for the High Inquisitor to look inside. Franco strode into the room, followed by Marie, who stopped short.

“Guest room?” Franco mused, glancing around the room. He strode to the bed, checked under it, and kicked over the rug. “Doesn’t seem to be anything here, and no one’s been using this room. Let’s press on.”

Franco turned to face Marie, whose face was pale, and her hands bound into fists in her skirts as she stared at the wall. “Ma’am?” Franco asked.

Marie’s gaze flickered back to Franco, and her posture changed. Her shoulders relaxed and her hands unfisted to wipe a tear from her eye. “Oh, High Inquisitor, I’m just overcome with fear for my husband and children, with Toren gone and Harold out to war, and now this…”

“I understand,” Franco said, nodding. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep your oldest son here to manage your affairs.”

“You’re very kind,” Marie said, ushering the High Inquisitor out, She spared one glance back into the room before she closed the door, leading Franco away.