Chapter 20: The Last Revenant

The imposing man crossed the drawbridge and entered the gatehouse. The looming towers that would be so intimidating to an invading force instead gave him power and gravitas. He had been to the chapterhouse earlier in the morning. He’d replaced his armour. He’d replaced his sword. He held a new shield. But he couldn’t replace the pride they had stolen from him. Nor would he, for now it fuelled him.

The guards saluted. The dark shield emblazoned on his cuirass gave him entry. It ensured he wouldn’t be stopped until he reached the great hall. Westfall Castle was an immense work of dark stone and grotesque architecture. From the darkest days of Grixoninia came this fortress, and it reflected the bloody conflict from which it had been built.

The knight resonated with the castle now. He understood it.

He strode into the keep, pushing past petitioners and servants alike. Such was his countenance that anyone who saw him coming evacuated his path with haste after witnessing his scowl.

Only the doorman to the great hall dared raise his voice to the irate knight.

“The Lord is holding court…” he warned, but the knight thrust open the doors all the same.

“MY LORD,” he commanded, with a voice that demanded all eyes in the room fall to him. The great hall was suddenly silent at the audacity that any man, even a knight, would interrupt the proceedings with such an entrance.

“You have a traitor in your employ and a powerful wild mage in your lands.”

The court advisor stepped forward, bristling with anger and indignation. “Just who do you think you are?”

The knight grabbed him by the throat and lifted him out of his way, then stared up at Lord Arnias, ignoring the subordinate save to drop him, gasping, to the floor.

“I am Sir Gregory De Mascione, last remaining member of Revenant Company…

…and you have a problem.”