The Hand returned to Zurhan in the mid-afternoon of 21 Sarnia, and immediately reported to the Chancellor and Master Vetaris on the bizarre events around Hart’s Lodge. The King was indisposed just then, but the Chancellor assured them he would pass on the full report. He also reported that their interrogation of the Darikazi slaver/spies that Erol and Mariala had captured, the few that had survived, had yielded very little.

“The most we’ve learned is that they were based in Gevdan Town,” the Chancellor reported with a sigh. “And that one, possibly two, of their number remained behind.

“As grateful as we are that you exposed them, I could wish you’d left rather more of them alive. Only two of the survivors were actual Darikazi; the rest were merely locally flunkies who knew almost nothing.”

“The Korönians were never going to give up easily,” an unrepentant Erol shrugged. “We really had no choice, they seemed determined not to be taken alive.”

Mariala looked at her friend with a raised eyebrow, but said nothing. At that moment a knock at the door interrupted the conversation. A courier from Kar Gevdan had arrived with an urgent message for the Baron’s nephew and his friends.

It seemed that some strange going-ons had been occurring in the town below the castle. Strange animals had appeared in the streets, there were reports of ghosts and even the dead rising up, and several people had gone missing. Lord Tynal’s own men had investigated, but aside from killing a few stray beasts, including a silver-back bear, had been able to learn nothing… aside from a strong desire to avoid the Low Town, apparently.

The Devrik’s cousins were with the army, preparing for the spring campaign, so the Baron wondered if his nephew and his boon companions might be free to come and investigate themselves… it seemed very much in their wheelhouse. He reported that Raven and his grand-nephew were fine, nothing uncanny had yet penetrated the castle, bur they missed Devrik.

“I had been preparing to send my own investigators to pursue this matter of the Darikazi,” the Chancellor said, looking thoughtful as Vulk finished reading the message (Devrik had handed it off to his friend to read aloud, once he’d perused it himself). “If it is your intention to accede to Baron Gevdan’s request, might I impose upon you once again? If you could look into this matter of the remaining spies at the same time, the Crown would be grateful…”

“We’d be happy to find the remaining slavers,” Erol said before anyone else could reply. “I assume we’re going, right Devrik?”

“Well, I’m going of course,” the warrior-mage growled. “I’d appreciate the rest of you coming, of course, but I know it’s been a tough several days…”

“Oh, of course we’re coming with you,” Vulk said, to the nods and murmured agreement of the others. “The Hand sticks together, after all!”

“But I assume we won’t be haring off this evening,” Mariala added with a hard look at Devrik. She knew his obsessiveness when it came to any danger to his family, however remote. “So I suggest we find ourselves a decent meal and then retire early. An early start will get us to Kar Gevdan with plenty of time to investigate.”

Devrik agreed with a grunt and a shrug… he had been planning on leaving at once, but his friend was right. It would be well after dark before he could arrive, and there seemed little enough danger to his family… and he knew his uncle was fully capable of protecting them, if it came to it.

As the Hand departed the royal castle to find a decent inn for a hot meal, Maser Vetaris accompanied them as far as Execution Square, filling them in on his own activities and the Council’s plans for the upcoming campaign to mop up the last of the late, but not lamented, Laravad’s mercenary forces.

“Vox has proved very capable on the last mission upon whichI sent him, spying out enemy positions in the west,” the older man concluded. “I’ve asked him to travel with the army for now, so he may not rejoin you for awhile.”

With that he waved them on to food, suggesting the Ample Eel as a good choice, and turned to make his way to the Ukalus embassy he was calling home these days. The Hand took his suggestion, and agreed that it was, indeed, a fine choice… Haplo tried not to think of it as a last meal, but who knew what the ‘morrow would bring?