The plague had reached Bergheim.
Fear roamed the streets, and not even the corrupt authorities could silence the rumors that ran from one side to the other.
At every corner, one heard stories of mutants, wererats, and huge wild-eyed rats that brought death and disease to all who met them.
Now I can reveal a part of the sinister truths behind those rumors...
Elysia, 'The Adventures of the Dark Hero', vol. II,
Printed in Riverheim, Kingdom of Arcadia.
♦ ♦ ♦
"You seem to hang out in high society these days, Frey." commented the innkeeper, Heinz, as he gave Frey a slightly awkward smile.
"What do you mean?" inquired the dark hero.
"When you were away, this came for you." He handed the dark hero a sealed letter. "It was brought by a footman wearing the tabard of his highness, Duke Emmanuel, no less. He was accompanied by a couple of city guards."
A sudden feeling of nausea washed over the pit of Frey's stomach, and his eyes flicked to the door to make sure he had a clear escape route. Quickly, he went over all the things the authorities might want him for.
Well, the fact that he had assisted in the assassination of the duke's secret police chief, Fritz Helstaff, not to mention the fact that he had been involved in the fire that had engulfed the College of Alchemists.
How had they found it? Had she been recognized by one of the hundreds of confidantes who swarmed the city? Or was it something else entirely? Where was Elysia? Perhaps if they moved fast enough, they could still escape the jaws of that trap.
"Aren't you going to read that?" Heinz asked, curiosity plain in his eyes, and Frey shook his head at being pulled from his musings. He realized that his heart was pounding and his palms were sweating. Seeing the way Heinz was looking at him, he knew he must look as guilty as sin itself, and he forced a wry smile.
"Read what?"
"The damn letter. You must realize that we are all dying of curiosity."
Looking around her, Frey saw that Heinz, Elissa, and the rest of the employees were staring at her openly, eager to know what business he might have with the ruler of the Bergland duchy and lord of Bergheim.
"Sure, sure," the dark hero replied, struggling to remain calm and make his hands stop shaking.
He walked over to his usual chair by the fire, and sat down. The horde of curious onlookers followed him, scrutinizing the expression on his face. Frey gave them a terrible look until they all backed away, then turned his attention to the letter.
It was written on the finest vellum paper, and his name, drawn in good-quality ink, was on the envelope. There were no smudges or smudges to be seen, and whoever had written it had some of the best handwriting he had ever seen. The wax seal was unbroken, and the Duke's coat of arms could be seen on it.
Frey regained his composure a bit when he realized that one did not write letters to the subject he was going to arrest. If he stuck to formalities, the arrest warrant was read and the shackles put on.
In the case of the Duke, the assassins he sent left the detainee unconscious with a club, who woke up chained in the Black Tower.
"Perhaps." he told himself. "Things aren't so bad after all." However, he had his doubts. In his experience, anything in life that could go wrong did.
He broke the seal with nervous fingers and studied the message it contained. It was written in the same beautiful, elegant handwriting as the address on the envelope, and it was as simple as it was enigmatic.
♦ ♦ ♦
Mr. Frey:
You are ordered to appear at the palace of his Highness; Lady Emilia, daughter of Duke Emmanuel, requests your presence at the ringing of vespers on this day.
Sincerely yours, Osval yerónimo, secretary of his Highness.
♦ ♦ ♦
"How curious!" Frey thought as he turned the letter over and over in his hands, as if by doing so he could find some clue as to why he summoned it. But there weren't any. He wondered what the daughter of the ruler of one of the Kingdom of Lothal's duchies could want from a wandering adventurer, poor as a rat, and no answer came to him. He realized that everyone was still staring at him, so he stood up and smiled.
"Nothing happens. I have only been invited to visit Emilia, the duke's daughter." he said he at last.
Elissa still looked shocked and a little shocked, as if she couldn't quite believe that there hadn't been a mistake.
"It's a great honor." the girl told him while they were sitting by the fire.
"I'm sure it's nothing." Nonchalantly, Frey stuffed the letter into the backpack that he always kept under his cloak.
"You will go, right?" he asked himself, and smiled.
"Of course. I cannot ignore an order from the daughter of the ruler of the city."
"What clothes are you going to wear, then? I doubt that armor is suitable clothing"
Frey was about to reply that his own armor, of course, but he immediately understood what he wanted. His armor was stained and dirty in a hundred places from all the fighting and skirmishing he had been involved in. His cloak looked tattered and was stained with all sorts of substances. The boots were holed and cracked. He looked more like an armored beggar than a hero, and he doubted he would be allowed through the palace's main gate looking like that. They would probably throw a bone at him and kick him off.
"Don't worry." he replied. "I'll think of something."
"Then you'd better think fast. There are only eight hours left for the ringing of vespers."
♦ ♦ ♦
Frey looked across Dr. Niccolev's desk. He freshly bathed and with the battered armor cleaned from him hastily. His hands played idly with the silver pommel that hung from his neck. He wished he hadn't had to use his last resort, his last trump card.
Dr. Niccolev di L'Orme rose from behind her heavy oak desk and walked slowly to the window. She put her hands behind her back, and Frey noticed that she was holding onto her left wrist with her right hand.
The doctor wore her black outfit with some white parts, along with her signature raven mask.
"You know, Frey, the city doesn't have to be close to a catastrophe for you to come visit me. You are one of Lord Zark's generals, there is no problem if you come to have tea and talk quietly."
Frey felt a pang of guilt. Nicolev was right.
"I've been busy," she replied.
"Doing what?"
"Dragging through cemeteries, burning government institutions to the ground, fighting monsters, murdering government agents. Generally, killing things." Frey commented nonchalantly.
"Yes, I know" Niccolev affirmed in a whisper. "I read all your progress reports."
Frey couldn't tell if Niccolev was angry or just hurt. She spread her legs out in front of her and pushed the chair back until she was propped up on her two hind legs.
"How are they in the castle? I only talk to the communications manager to deliver my reports, and she's not very talkative to say."
Niccolev shrugged. "That's how she is. In any case, all operations are proceeding smoothly; Lord Nyos is building trust towards him in the town of Gelhofen, Lord Azrael and Miss Isabell are in Crownheim, the capital of the kingdom of Lothal, they are currently gathering information for Operation Crownfire, Miss Charlotte is beginning to deploy her spy network in both the Kingdom and the Empire."
"When will the second phase start?" asked Frey directly.
"After carrying out the Crownfire operation."
"Okay, moving on to another matter. Do you know Emilia, the daughter of Duke Emmanuel?"
The doctor fell silent, turned around and gave her a penetrating look behind her mask, it seemed as if a crimson flash was released from her eyes.
"Not personally, I've only heard a few things. They say that she is a spirited young woman and somewhat frivolous."
Niccolev paused and turned away from the window to sink back into the comfortable seat and open a huge book.
"Along with some rumors about her." he said then, without looking at Frey.
Frey leaned forward until he almost touched Niccolev's neatly arranged desk, and the front legs of the chair fell to the floor with a crash.
"Rumours?"
Niccolev cleared his throat and gave her an awkward smile.
"It is said that she is somewhat promiscuous; more than something, in fact. It is nothing unusual among the sons of a high noble. I would say they are all a little less than normal."
"Promiscuous?" inquired Frey, whose interest had been aroused. "In what sense?"
"It is said that she is the lover of half of the noble youths of the Kingdom and even some of the Empire. She has a special fondness for playboys and dueling aficionados. It also seems that there have been some scholars. It's just rumors, of course, and I don't pay attention to gossip." she hastened to add, it was easy to see that Dr. Niccolev was a woman of trials; not rumors. "Why do you ask me?"
Frey placed the letter on top of the book Niccolev had been studying, and the doctor picked it up and turned it over in her hands. She looked at the broken seal, then took out the parchment that contained the envelope, and read it.
"So now you move among the nobility. I am not going to ask you why such an honor is due."
Niccolev's gaze swept over Frey's plate armor.
"Of course, you need money." he said at last, and Frey stared back at her as he considered his options. The truth was that she did not want to accept money from Niccolev, but in the circumstances it seemed advisable to do so, as he/she no doubt needed better attire to visit court.