After his meeting with the mage, Quincey turned to the true mission for which he had come to Castravelle. He therefore retrieved his horse and made his way toward the bastion. This time, however, he did not pass through the streets as an ordinary visitor, but as a Messenger-at-Arms, removing his cloak and allowing his insignia to be seen.

None of the guards could now afford to stop him or deny him passage to their commander. This held true for the outer guards who watched the gate to the courtyard, as well as the inner ones who guarded not only the entrance doors but also Brud’s study.

“I bear the king’s orders. I must see Commander Brud. At once,” he finally allowed himself to reveal the reason for his arrival, and that alone was enough for each of them to step aside.

He left Astrum tied in the courtyard, his cloak draped over him. Then he entered within, ignoring all the gazes that first fell upon the pauldrons bearing the mark of the royal house, and then upon his badge, upon which was depicted a scroll sealed with the royal seal, pierced by a sword, and above them the royal crown.

The knight halted only before the heavy oak doors that led to the study, before which stood two men with folded arms, clearly showing that their master wished for no disturbance. Yet this did not apply to Quincey.

The Messenger-at-Arms held his head high and his shoulders straight, so that all might know his importance, and looked the men in the eyes with the authority that came with his office.

“Commander Brud does not wish to be disturbed,” one of the guards dared to say before the scar-chinned knight could speak.

Quincey raised his brow in surprise, though the gesture carried more the air of a challenge. Then he spoke.

“I am certain the king’s orders are of greater importance than his tranquility.”

Yet it seemed these guards were not as perceptive as those outside and did not understand simple words. “No visit from the Citadel was announced to us.”

“It has been announced now. I answer not to you, but to the king. I shall not ask your permission to enter. Stand aside.” With each word Quincey’s voice grew firmer, and at last it prevailed.

With the address “My Lord,” the guards bowed and stepped away from the doors, allowing him to enter within.

Commander Brud sat behind his desk, and to his credit it truly seemed he was burdened with work, for he was bent over documents and various papers.

“Who dares disturb me? I gave word that I would see no one!” he spat the moment he heard the sound of the door and approaching steps, and only then lifted his head, the same venomous anger upon his face as in his voice.

“Quincey Acerbo, appointed Messenger-at-Arms of King Cassian,” the brown-haired knight introduced himself, though it was not necessary.

It was almost comical to watch the commander’s expression change, and for a moment his face paled as he realized his uncouth error. Yet he quickly rose in an effort to amend it.

“My Lord Messenger,” this time nothing but respect could be heard in his tone. “To what do I owe your visit?”

The man stepped around the desk so that he might stand face to face with him, though he still kept a respectful distance. The knight wondered whether these manners would remain once he revealed the purpose of his visit, and whether he would again become a victim of the commander’s anger. Should it be necessary, however, Quincey was permitted to draw his sword, and thus it would not be he who ended as the victim.

The knight withdrew a sealed parchment from his pouch and broke the wax, unfolding it to deliver the king’s orders.

“Commander Brud,” he began, and his voice was now somewhat quieter, freed of its earlier sharpness. “By royal decree and on suspicion of a breach of the Crown’s security within the Castravelle sector, you are hereby relieved of command of this garrison with immediate effect. Until the investigation in the Citadel is concluded, you are suspended from service.”

The shock upon the other man’s face was evident, and Quincey watched him more closely so that he might judge whether it was the shock of his wrongdoing being uncovered, or merely surprise, since he did not know what this concerned and had not expected it.

The commander silently extended his hand toward him, and the Messenger-at-Arms placed the parchment into it so that he might see for himself its truth. The ink upon it bore the very same words the knight had spoken, and the gold seal of the realm stood as undeniable proof of its authenticity.

“Security breach?” the man returned to the line that had troubled him most. “That is nonsense.” He lifted his head again toward Quincey. “I have served in Castravelle for more than twenty years and never once had any trouble. My work is precise, and the town is as safe as the Citadel itself.”

“Disturbing reports have reached the king concerning illegal smugglers and bribery,” the knight clarified. “He could not turn a blind eye. Surely you understand that.”

It was clear that anger was boiling within the man, waiting only for the moment to surface, yet he did not dare question the king’s orders.

“So, I am relieved of duty?”

Quincey nodded. “Until the investigation is concluded,” he repeated. “I will require your keys to the treasury, to the armory, and your sword.”

Receiving the keys into his palm was simple enough, yet then he watched as the commander reluctantly unfastened the sword from his belt, hesitation evident in the motion. Quincey did not blame him, for had he been in his place, he would have felt the same. His sword had been the extension of his arm since the day he first learned to wield it.

“Commander Brud,” he spoke when the man’s hesitation lingered. Fortunately, it was not because he intended to use the sword against the bearer of ill tidings, for at last he handed it over, though unwillingly.

“Thank you for your cooperation.” Quincey made it clear that he did not take his composure in such a moment lightly. “Your successor will be appointed, who shall temporarily assume your duties. During this time you remain a member of the royal guard, yet you are not permitted to perform your function. Do you understand?”

“So I am to stand idle and hope that either someone confesses, or that the rumors prove to be nothing more than rumors?”

“You know your men best.” The Messenger-at-Arms chose to offer him a third possibility. “If there is someone among them who can uncover the truth even without the intervention of royal investigators, it is you.”

Something in Brud’s eyes changed, as though he had not expected such an answer. Then he nodded.

“You are right, Lord Messenger. You have my word that if anything improper is taking place in Castravelle, I shall be the first to uncover it and bring the culprit before the king’s throne.”

“I value your initiative, Commander Brud.” Quincey realized he should no longer have addressed him by that title, yet it seemed to please the other man, and thus he had at least the certainty that another conflict would be avoided.

“May I know who will be appointed as my successor?”

“Sergeant Koz,” the knight answered truthfully, since the commander would learn it soon enough in any case.

To his surprise, the elder man nodded, appearing not only unsurprised by the choice but satisfied. “So be it. I shall summon the men to the courtyard so you may deliver the proclamation.”

Commander Brud cooperated more than Quincey had expected, and he did not know whether to take it as a sign of loyalty to the Crown, or rather as an attempt to rid himself of suspicion. Yet he was not here to draw conclusions, and so he merely nodded and gave thanks.

A short while later the bell in the bastion rang three times, and all the guards began to gather in the courtyard, forming three disciplined ranks. It was a practiced routine, and thus Quincey did not wait long before they stood before him, and among them he found with his gaze the new commander.

“Today we are honored by the visit of the Messenger-at-Arms, Quincey Acerbo. He bears the king’s orders,” the former commander introduced him, then stepped back among the men, which stirred surprise and whispers, for a man of his standing would otherwise have remained at the front beside the knight.

The brown-haired knight cleared his throat and allowed no room for questions. He began at once.

“Soldiers of Castravelle! By order of King Cassian, Commander Brud is relieved of command with immediate effect. By my authority, acting in the king’s name, I appoint Sergeant Koz as his temporary successor.”

Every eye turned instinctively toward the man named, and thus Quincey knew precisely to whom he must address his next words.

“Sergeant Koz, step forward and take the oath,” he called.

Sergeant Koz was an older man, senior even to the former commander, his face bearing the marks of a lifetime of service. Cassian must have chosen him as the surrogate for that very reason—years of faithful service left little room to doubt his devotion to the Crown.

He knelt before the Messenger-at-Arms and, with head bowed in respect, declared:

“I swear upon my steel and my blood that I shall be a faithful commander of Castravelle. I swear that under my command it shall remain a faithful reflection of the rule of Valerion and its laws. Should I betray this oath, may punishment fall upon me without mercy. This I vow!”

Quincey allowed him to finish, and then stepped closer so that he might place a hand upon his shoulder as a sign he might rise. Yet first he spoke his reply.

“I accept your oath in the name of the king. Rise, Commander Koz. Castravelle is now your responsibility.”

The new commander was officially appointed, yet there was no time for celebration. Instead, the Messenger-at-Arms summoned Commander Koz back into the study from which he himself had come only moments before, so that he might inform him of the situation.

To his surprise, much like his predecessor, Koz also claimed he knew nothing of any bribery or illegal goods. He promised to keep watch over the matter, yet he could give Quincey no hint as to where he should look or what he should examine.

Thus the knight was once again left to rely upon himself, and he requested a list of all the new merchants who had appeared in the area over the past months. In this way he would know exactly which shops and workshops to visit, and discover whether someone was hiding something.