During the trip back from the hidden lair were the Earl of Yorma was being held captive in a strange Ancient artifact, the group spent a fair amount of time convincing the nobleman that he really had been missing for over a year.

“I swear, it couldn’t have been much more than a tenday,” he kept repeating. “They kept waking me up, and taking me to a large chamber, with a great dragon sculpture… I remember the glowing eyes… and then the nightmares would begin… I remember at least ten days… surely not more…”

When Mariala finally asked him if he had ever eaten during his periods of wakefulness, or if he’d even been hungry when he “awoke,” he fell silent for a moment before admitting he had neither eaten, nor been hungry.

“What’s the last thing you clearly remember?” Vulk inquired once the young Earl had begun to accept the truth of the nature of his imprisonment.

“We had tracked the escaped murderer north, pushing him hard. We finally cornered him in a narrow box canyon, one my man Yardin knew of old, being native to the district. There was no way out, other than the way he had entered.

“But when we pushed in after the villain, we found him already dead, killed by a band of Gülvini that seemed to have made their camp there. The foulspawn wasted no time in attacking the three of us, but despite their superior numbers I have no doubt we’d have done for them, if not for… the other.

“I only caught a glimpse of the tall figure behind the pack, but it was arresting – a man in deep midnight blue robes, trimmed in a pattern of golden flames, carrying a gnarled staff and wearing a golden mask. I remember it distinctly, despite the turmoil of the fight, for it was unnerving… the mask seemed a solid piece, without eyeholes or mouth!

“Yet he spoke clearly enough, if in a language unknown to me, and followed the battle closely enough. When it became apparent his minions (for so I believed them to be) would not subdue us, he raised his staff and cried out some chilling command that caused our limbs to grow suddenly numb and nerveless.

“Even as my sword and shield dropped from my hands, I saw my men bourne down my the Gül and torn to pieces.”

For a moment Lord Sedris paused, overwhelmed at the, to him, very recent loss of two good and loyal men. But he soon picked up the story, frowning in concentration.

“There’s little more to be said… I fully expected to meet the same fate as Yardin and Rosek, but before the snarling beast-men could pull me down the mysterious masked man called out an order, and they grudgingly backed away.

“The numbing effective was passing as quickly as it had come on, and I dove to retrieve my sword… but even as I did, the man raised his staff, I saw a brilliant light… and nothing, until I awoke the first time in that strange chamber where you good people found me.”

Further questions revealed little more… each time he had been awakened from his strange slumber there had been four figures, whether male of female he couldn’t tell as they were wrapped in black robes, and masked and gloved in black leather… these masks too, seemed to lack any opening for sight or speech, although the figures never spoke to him.

Each time he awoke he felt more confused and lost than before, and each session of nightmares reinforced the feelings. He claimed not to remember the specifics of his nightmares, but Mariala sensed a certain evasiveness from him on that score.

As they paused at the Nitarin Vortex that would return them to the environs of the Nebulon Chapterhouse, his wife, and his father-in-law, Mariala took out a sheet of her remote writing paper and jotted down a few words:

“Earl Yorma found. Ancient device involved. Secrecy not possible.”

Later that evening, in his quiet study just outside the port city of Devok, Master Vetaris did his daily check of the parchment slips he kept in his desk…

♦ ♦ ♦

Vulk convinced Lord Sedris that, given his long absence and the political roil currently going on around the potential Succession Crisis, it would be best if he arrived incognito at the conference that was going on between Earl Kinen, the Knight Commander Ser Remiu, the Lord Marshal of Kurikmarch Baron Bolnik, and the Lady Thalisa.

“Indeed, Ser,” the young Earl agreed, “never give up the element of surprise. One may not need it, but if one does…

“I’m glad to hear the King still lives; when you told me how long I’ve been missing, my first thought, after how my poor wife must be faring, was that the country might be in the midst of a civil war!”

“Not yet, your grace,” said Drake. “But His Majesty’s health is not improving… indeed, they delayed the Royal Tournament a month, due to his last illness.”

“Which turned out well for you,” added Devrik, “else we’d not have come this way and so found you.”

Arriving in Nebulon just after the evening meal, the group found that the conference had only just resumed in the library of the chapterhouse. Cris was full of information he’d managed to glean through judicious eavesdropping, and eager to share it, once he’d been assured that the cloaked and hooded figure with his employers was a friend.

“The Earl is trying to convince the others that his daughter should be made Countess in her own right, if her husband doesn’t return soon, and that they should back her with the clan succession council, which I guess is making noises about naming a new clan head.

“They keep talking about “keeping the North united” if things go bad when the King dies, and keeping Urkonis in Lady Thalisa’s hands is key…”

With his rescuers around him, and Cris trailing behind, Earl Yorma made his way into the Chapterhouse, pausing only to lower his hood and reveal his face to the startled guards outside the library.

His entrance into the room was perfect.

“Thalisa’s been running the fief brilliantly, and there’s a strong sentiment in her favour,” the Earl Kinen was saying. “I fear if we wait much longer, though, the Council –”

He stopped in mid sentence, his mouth hanging open in shock, as his son-in-law stepped into the chamber. Lady Thalisa, seated with her back to the door, gave her father a puzzled look before turning to see what had so undone her usually unflappable father.

“Sedris!” she cried, leaping up. “You’re alive!”

This was immediately followed by “Where the Void have you been?” before she threw herself into his arms.

The confusion and babble in the room went on for quite some time, as the assembled nobles questioned their returned peer and his rescuers. Eventually the whole story was told, and the real worry set in.

“This is clearly not the work of some brigand band,” Lord Clarin stated. “Much less the Gülvini. Even if such rude folk had stumbled onto this Ancient relic, and somehow divined its workings, Sedris’ capture and imprisonment seems much too arcane a plot.”

“Yes,” agreed the Baron Tirfall. “Ransom would be the goal of common outlaws, who lucked onto such a catch; and the Gülvini would simply kill and devour.”

Lady Thalisa paled at this, and held her husbands hand tighter.

“A mage of some power is behind this,” she said. “Could it be the same enemy who has attempted assassination on you, Father?”

The Earl frowned and thought for a moment.

“Possibly,” he said at last. “But if so, he’s playing a long game. The first attempt on my life was some months after Sedris’ disappearance. Is this, then, some plot aimed at me, or my family, directly? Or some larger plot to destabilize the kingdom when the King finally passes?

“Whichever, it becomes even more imperative then ever that we here form a united front; and that the king be made… well, encouraged… to name an heir.”

He turned to Vulk and the others.

“Ser Vulk, you and your companions have done a great service to both my family and to the realm,” he said. “Indeed, it is not the first such – I come to think taking you into my entourage was the best decision I’ve made in recent months.

“I know we share the pursuit of a common interest.” Even amongst allies, the Earl was too canny to reveal their joint animosity toward the Constable of Dür. “But I would ask that you now bend your efforts to uncovering what you can of this seemingly larger plot… it seems more vital to me than anything else just now, certainly to the Kingdom.”

“Of course, milord,” Vulk agreed, bowing. The others murmured their assent and dipped their heads, all except Drake, who looked mutinous. But he kept silent, and the Earl continued.

“And now we should continue our discussion, however wonderful this interruption has been!”

The friends took the hint, and filed out of the room. They soon found a quiet corner of the main hall, and had food and drink brought to them. When the servants had laid it all out and departed again, Drake finally burst.

“We can’t give up the search for evidence against Bernan! We…”

“Calm down, little buddy,” soothed Vulk. “No one said anything about giving up on our primary goal here, not even the Earl. We’re just going to expand our circle of interest.”

“And it’s not like we have anything much to go on at this point,” added Mariala. “It’s all still just rumors and innuendo.”

“Yes,” agreed Devrik. “And since we know even less about this other matter, we’ll still be casting about looking for any lead… we’re just as likely to find one that leads us to Dür as to this mystery mage.”

Drake seemed mollified by these assurances, and the group fell to talking about what they knew and what they suspected, talking long into the night.

♦ ♦ ♦

The return to Urkonis the next day was a major event. Thanks to the military discipline of Nebulon and the Order of the Lord of Paladins, no word of the Earl Yorma’s return preceded them to the castle. But once they entered the gates, the word spread like wildfire, up into the fortress, and down into the town.

The feast that night was spectacular, despite the short notice – the castles cooks and servants went all out to prepare a banquet worthy of their well-beloved lord, his lady wife, and their august visitors. And to the surprise of everyone except Mariala, one of those guests was the famed scholar Magister Viril Vetaris, who arrived at the gates late in the afternoon.

“I came as soon as I could after I got your message, my dear,” he explained after the meal, when he and the group had found a quiet spot in the library to talk. “The number of Ancient artifacts you people seem to stumble across is becoming quiet alarming!”

“Hey!” objected Drake. “This is only the second one we’ve uncovered.”

“Most people never uncover any, young man” the mage observed dryly. “Even those who actively search for them.

“But in all seriousness, what really concerns me is who found this artifact before you, and why were they using it to… restrain… the young Earl.”

The group then filled him in on what Lord Sedris had told them, of the attack by Gülvini, the masked figure who seemed to control them, and the silent jailers who led him to his torment. They also filled him in on the details of the mage they fought in the highlands above Lake Everbrite, and the drug trade that he seemed involved in.

Master Vetaris was sunk in deep thought by the time they finished, his frowning gaze fixed on the first stars appearing in the evening sky outside the windows.

“There is clearly something going on here,” he said at last. “Something deeper and more serious than I, at least, have suspected.”

“I think I had better take this all directly to the Council, as soon as possible… perhaps they know more, or we can piece together a picture from the reports of other agents…

“In the meantime, you’re the agents on the ground, and I think you should continue to do as you’ve agreed to do for the Earl Kinen. But keep me posted, as often as seems necessary!”

Before they parted he gave each of them several slips of Mariala’s Parchment that he had created himself, which he assured them would last indefinitely. With that he slipped off to wrangle an interview with the Earl Yorma.

The next morning, as the cavalcade prepared to set off on the next leg of the Progress, Master Vetaris was gone, departing before dawn according to the gate guards.

♦ ♦ ♦

It was a long days travel to Dolint Abbey, the seat of the Kleros of Gostrial, and the Progress’ next stop, but the mood in the cavalcade was merry. The unexpected return of the Earl’s son-in-law had pushed out the cloud of worry and fear that had hovered over them since the assassination attempt at Zebarin.

And it was the first afternoon of their two-day stay at Dolint when Ser Petral pulled Drake aside to tell him they were ready for the final stage of their potion to attempt to cure the Lady Lania. After several hours of mixing the final ingredients, they had six vials ready.

“One of these each evening, for the next six days, and if the effect is what we hope… well, we’ll see.” Ser Petral seemed equal parts nervous and excited as they entered Lady Lania’s room to give her the first dose.

Drake was a little disappointed not to see an immediate, flashy result, but Ser Petral assured him that they couldn’t expect much for several days. But in fact, he was wrong – the very next morning, Lady Lania responded to her daughters voice by turning her head and smiling at her.

The Earl, only half dressed, and that in mismatched pieces, rushed to his wife’s side as soon as the news was brought to him. Ser Petral at last told him all that he and Drake had been working on, and his hopes for the potion.