“We prepare to welcome a delegation!” A woman’s voice echoed in the large hall. She paced pack and forth slowly as she spoke, her black cloak embossed with the golden sigil of the Emperor trailing behind her. “You are tasked with aiding the Honour Guard – you will follow your orders to the letter. You will take your orders directly from me, my subordinates,” she tilted her head towards the three men and women standing at attention behind her. “And the prince.” Her razor sharp gaze turned to Midhir.

  Gazes fell on him. Fearful, worried gazes, filled with the hurt of betrayal, or the shock of truth. His secret was out – with the final attack on An’Larion, there was no way for him to keep the truth hidden anymore. Yet, the gazes of his fellow students pressed down on him. It was suffocating.

  “Get to work. Dismissed!” The captain of the guard shouted. As soon as she did, her subordinates stepped forth, each ordering around a group of half a dozen students to follow them. The hall emptied significantly, leaving no one but her and Midhir.

  “Your highness,” She marched towards him. “Reports have arrived from our scouts while you were in the Obsidian Halls. The second group of Solus students, along with all the staff should arrive in two days. They are currently clearing the roadblock that forced your convoy to continue on foot.” Her raven black hair blew back as a sudden wind howled across the hall.

  “Thank you.” Midhir scowled as he glanced over his shoulder, to both entrances of the hall. One of these led to the guest quarters and amenities. There were several small training rooms, a mess hall, common areas and sleeping quarters.

  “You asked to see the prisoner, shall we?”

  “Please.” Midhir scowled. She was so familiar. “Captain, I never caught your name.”

  “Yuuna Marr,” she replied as she led him through the halls, down to the ground floor.

  “Marr?” He snapped his fingers. “Are you related to a Sorcha Marr? A Healer from Bareon?”

  Captain Marr paused momentarily. “She’s my sister,” she glanced at him. “Have you met her, your highness?”

  A smile flashed across his lips. “I have,” he chuckled. “One of the best healers I’ve ever met.” That included the host of healers that cared for him after the events of the thirteenth district.

  “She is exceptionally skilled,” Captain Marr nodded. “Though her lack of discipline disqualified her of serving here as the healer of the Honour Guard.” She shook her head. “I am glad you think so highly of her.” She stopped as they entered a medium sized round chamber. Several guards were posted here, in front of the only other exit – a spiral staircase leading further down.

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  “The dungeon is accessible only through here,” she explained as she led him down. “We currently only have half a dozen or so cultists imprisoned, though most of them broke quite easily. Their leader, however, seems to be much more resilient.” Her lips formed a thin line as they reached the bottom of the staircase.

  The dungeon was essentially a large, round chamber surrounded by cells separated from it by thick, metal bars. The well lit chamber’s floor was etched with sigils and imperial script, and the strip of stone slabs in front of the cells was lined with small, red crystals embedded into the stone.

  “Is that resonance active?”

  Captain Marr shook her head. “Not while his Majesty is present. It can be activated in case of an emergency, though it would surely prove to be difficult under current circumstances.” She pointed at one of the cells. “There is the cultist leader. We have been unable to extract any information as of yet.”

  Midhir approached the metal bars. The light of the torches easily reached inside the cell, illuminating the straw bed on the ground, and the man who was laying on it. His clothes were tattered from the journey, his wrists red with rope marks.

  He scowled. “Why is he still wearing that helmet?” And why wasn’t he reacting to his presence at all? “What have you done to him?”

  “Nothing.” Captain Marr shook her head. “We tried to remove the helmet, as surely you did as well before you arrived. We failed. He certainly doesn’t want it removed, every attempt ended in him attacking my men, and even going as far to hurt himself.” She folded her arms. “And the one time my men did restrain him properly, the damn thing didn’t come out. Some of our best people are working on trying to understand what kind of resonance has been weaved upon it.”

  “He’s just asleep, then?”

  She nodded. “We haven’t started questioning him yet – you arrived only a few hours ago after all.”

  “Keep me informed of any changes.”

  The next days passed in a blur as preparations were underway. There was much to be done, and too few people. The hallways, walls and decorations were scrubbed until they glittered. The Honour Guard lined before the armoury as students and squires cleaned and polished their armour, though they refused to hand over their weapons, sharpening and caring for them in their own time.

  More patrols went out seeking the cultists, following the scout reports that spotted them. The road between the Wall and Derwen Hold was properly secured with even more soldiers.

  Their schedule was busy beyond belief, giving them no time for themselves at all. They woke up before dawn and got to work, only pausing for meals or for a short respite after the rigorous training they underwent.

  On the dusk of their third day there, the second convoy from An’Larion, carrying nearly all of Solus’ staff and the majority of its students arrived. Midhir felt the weight of the students’ gazes once more as Captain Marr gave them the same speech, then dismissed them to their chambers for the night.

  “The ambassador was delayed.” Captain Marr reported as soon as the students left the hall. “They will arrive tomorrow at noon.” She glanced at Midhir. “I will make sure the students play their part. Please make sure all enforcers know their roles as well, your highness.”