Our travel continued, though much slower than expected. After the first few monsters, I ordered the men to proceed more cautiously, allowing me to scout ahead with magic more. Though our travel was delayed, it allowed us to avoid most monsters.

  Their concentration was such that I debated risking the roads. The monster population might make a witcher salivate, but it was not so bad that our party could not make it through by exercising a bit of extra caution, and so I had eventually decided to stay the course. Best that the Duke not receive any warnings.

  It was nearly two weeks later that we finally spotted the city of Attre, a whole week later than my first estimation. As planned, it was barely a couple of hours past dawn. We were all well-rested.

  The delay was not all bad, as it allowed me to think through my next course of action more. Consulting the royal guards with me also provided me with extra information about Attre’s situation.

  In 1233, the duchy was granted the right to use the Cintran Lion for aiding the Queen during the Battle of Hochebuz the year prior, which was the last time Attre had made any waves. This was well known, though the political circumstances behind the matter were quite a bit more complex, and not something I had known previously.

  When Nazair invaded Cintra, they had, of course, gone through Marnadal, the land under the control of the Duke of Attre. Unlike this time, Baldemar of Attre had apparently been doing his job, just insufficiently. The invading force had smashed through the border patrols, quickly making their way into Cintra’s interior, pillaging everything they could along their route, all the way to Hochebuz.

  Attre had rallied alongside many of Cintra’s nobles, and Nazair was beaten at Hochebuz under Calanthé’s leadership.

  Afterwards, the finger-pointing began. Many nobles who had their lands raided blamed Attre for the calamity that had befallen them, while many others blamed Attre for the stain upon Cintra’s honour. This was only exacerbated by the fact that Attre escaped the invasion mostly unscathed, as the invaders chose to pass through Marnadal into Cintra proper, leaving the duchy behind. A sensible decision, as Attre was somewhat disconnected from Cintra proper thanks to its geography, but one that only exacerbated the infighting.

  Duke Baldemar and the other Attre nobility very much detested this, as border defence had been a very heated topic in the previous years. This, I was assured, was a very dull and very noble affair, that could be summarised by Cintra’s nobility not wanting to pay Attre for something they perceived as irrelevant to their own interests. This group naturally included many who then went on to lose much of their wealth in the Nazairi invasion of 1232. The result was a very weak southern border, something which ended up being exploited by Nazair.

  To silence the discontent, the Queen had honoured Attre, expressing her support. Attre had, after all, lobbied hard for stronger borders and rallied to her banner to repel the invaders.

  It was a decent compromise that quelled the most vocal on both sides, if for different reasons, but it solved very little. While Cintra’s nobles were angered, they dared not go against the Queen too openly. Attre, though slightly placated, wasn’t so easy to bribe. The end result was a weakening of the Crown’s power, alongside a rift forming between Attre and the rest of Cintra.

  It seemed that Duke Baldemar had taken the lessons of Hochebuz to heart in quite an inconvenient manner, which was rather strange, as all signs had pointed to the rift being on the mend, with Attre pursuing closer ties to the Crown, until recently.

  As we neared, I examined the city more. Attre reminded me a little of Gors Velen, the city in which Aretuza was located. Or, perhaps more accurately, the city which was located around Aretuza.

  Like Gors Velen, Attre was a fairly prosperous harbour city, though its wealth stemmed from regular trade instead of the patronage of the Brotherhood. The city was surrounded by farmland, though less so than one might expect, likely on account of the many fishing boats I could see sailing near the coast. Attre itself possessed a sturdy wall, though after spending so much time on the Marnadal issue, it seemed a bit lacking to me. Still, it was likely more than enough to repel any raiders from Nazair or the sea, so I doubted the locals minded.

  “So it begins,” I muttered, before casting my reflex enhancement.

  “Ready yourself, men!” I spoke up, my eyes roaming over the five knights, “We are now, for all intents and purposes, in enemy territory. We are here as the hand of the Queen herself, our mission vital for the safety of the realm. We shall let none stand in our way!”

  Determined nods answered my short speech, steely eyes meeting my own. They had all seen the size of the Nazairi army, which could have easily pillaged through Cintra were it not for us. An army that only made it as far as it did because of the Duke’s betrayal.

  “Edvyn,” I spoke to one of the knights, “Are you still confident in your recollection of the castle’s interior? If you are unsure, we will change the plan.”

  “I’ve been in that castle many times, Lady Degurechaff. You can rely on me,” he replied, voice quiet.

  I nodded, then threw away the cloak concealing my armour and donned my helmet. There was no reason to hide our identity anymore. The men moved to do the same.

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  The plan was not overly complex, or elegant. With no perfect options, I chose simplicity. Let the dice fall where they may.

  “Forward!” I spurred my horse into a gallop, the five following close by. My staff was fastened to the horse, both of my hands on the reins.

  Shouts erupted from the gates as we were spotted, bewildered guardsmen startled out of their daydreams. I could see six moving around in a panic.

  They didn’t have time to do much. Two of them ran for it, while the remaining four tried to get into a semblance of formation, encouraged by a shouting sergeant, bracing their spears to meet our charge. The civilians which had been lined up for entry scattered in every direction.

  ‘Eveagh Aard,’ I incanted in my mind, my hands never leaving my reins, the blast of force scattering the unlucky guardsmen like bowling pins, even if noticeably weaker than if I had cast it properly.

  We rode through the gate like a storm, shouts of pain and fear all around us as we entered one of Attre’s main roads. It went through most of the city, right up to the Duke’s seaside castle.

  The pedestrians screamed and ran, while the solitary guard pairs scattered throughout the city were about as effective as the gate guards in stopping our approach. With the news of our intrusion spreading at the speed of our gallop, Attre’s guard had no time to properly muster, letting us reach the castle without further incident.

  Not expecting any trouble, the drawbridge was still lowered, though I doubted it would remain that way for long. A group of city guards led by three knights barred our way. Their confusion vanished the moment they spotted us, spears quickly levelling in our direction.

  I slowed my horse, coming to a stop in front of the soldiers.

  “In the name of the Queen, MAKE WAY!” I shouted at them, much to their bewilderment.

  “What,” the lead knight blinked, a taller man, fully armoured and proudly bearing Attre’s coat of arms, spoke. Though I could not see his face, his voice indicated he was old, likely past middle age.

  “DO YOU NOT RECOGNISE THE ROYAL GUARDS!” I practically screamed before reaching for a saddlebag and retrieving a scroll. I threw it to the knight. Then I grabbed my staff, making the crystal orb glow ominously.

  He read quickly, his brows furrowing more with each line.

  Angling my head, I could see that the guard was beginning to properly muster behind us, already blocking the main road as they approached, while more guards joined the formation blocking our way forward.

  Unfortunate, but necessary. If we just ran through, they would be right to assume us to be assassins. Though the overall result might be the same, a paper trail was needed. They would not make much of a difference anyway.

  “I still cannot let you pass. I will, however, bring this to the duke as quickly as possible.”

  “Impossible,” I retorted immediately, “ONWARDS!”

  The knight’s eyes widened visibly behind his helmet, though he didn’t react, likely confident in the modest spear formation that barred our way.

  I simply pointed my staff one-handed forwards, “Eveagh Aard,” I incanted solemnly, my left hand quickly forming the required gestures, while I also poured a bit of extra power from my foci into the spell.

  The blast spread from my staff, blowing a hole straight through their formation, causing the unlucky soldiers caught in the blast to go flying. Screams of pain and surprise echoed throughout the street as bones and bodies broke. Some of the guards fell into the moat, likely to drown. Necessary sacrifices.

  Spurring our horses into a gallop once more, we rode through without resistance, Edwyn taking his horse beside mine, guiding our charge.

  A minute or so later, we dismounted before a small oaken door, a servant's entrance. Two of the royal guards kicked the door in, and the rest of us quickly followed inside. We were greeted by an unremarkable stone hallway.

  Empty.

  “Left,” Edwyn said. The footfalls of our armoured boots echoed as we moved, following Edwyn’s directions through the winding corridors of the castle.

  In our haste, we had little time to properly check our surroundings, so the two guards that nearly collided with us when we moved around a corner were quite the surprise.

  I reacted faster than anyone else. My hand reached for the face of the closer guard, “Voe'rle holl,’ I cast the paralysis spell in record speed, while the second guard was dogpiled by my men before he could shout.

  He thrashed, eyes full of fear, as Edwyn held his jaw, stifling any screams.

  A second incantation, and the man fell to the ground as well.

  “Good work,” I praised, “Let’s finish this.”

  A couple of minutes later, the grand door to the duke’s great hall greeted us, for some reason, unguarded.

  “This is it, Lady Degurechaff,” Edwyn whispered. The duke apparently spent most of his time in this hall, or in his chambers behind it. Either way, we had to go through.

  I nodded, my eyes examining the door. Eveagh Aard could likely break it, but if the door was launched into the room, it could easily kill someone other than the duke.

  I eyed the stone in which the door was set, a smirk coming onto my face, “Nolla,” I whispered, commanding the stone to shift.

  Then I moved closer, hitting the door with my staff.

  Once, twice, thrice.

  On the third hit, the door fell inwards.