village. It was typical of a mining town, mostly single story, wood buildings, built for utility rather than aesthetics. The streets were empty, aside from a few workers on their way home from the mines.
Being the mine foreman, Markus lived in one of the larger houses in the village, but even so, it was not much bigger than the average farmhouse. Millet tied the horses to a nearby hitching post then walked straight up and opened the door. The interior was modest yet comfortable. A sturdy dining table was already set for the evening meal at the far end of the great room, and a fire crackled in the fireplace just inside the door. A balding, stocky man with deep-set eyes, and a weathered face stood next to the table, slicing a loaf of fresh bread. He looked up and smiled as the party entered.
“Welcome,” said Markus. “Please have a seat. Supper will be ready shortly.”
“Thank you, old friend,” said Millet. “This is Maybell and Malstisos.”
Markus walked over and took Maybell’s hand. “My lady, you are most welcome. A Priestess of Ayliazarah is sorely needed here.”
Maybell curtsied. “I cannot tell you how grateful we are for your hospitality.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he replied and turned to Malstisos. “And you must be the elf Millet told me of. Truly the world is changing.”
Malstisos smiled and bowed low. “I am at your service and in your debt.”
Markus smiled broadly. “Not at all. Millet is an old friend and his friends are mine.”
They sat at the table while Markus passed around the bread and retrieved a small pot of beef stew from the stove. “I’m sorry that there’s not more, but this is considered a feast in these dark times.”
Millet reached in his purse and brought out a gold coin. “Take this.” He pushed the coin to Markus.
Markus pushed the coin back shaking his head. “I don’t need the money, my friend. It's food we lack here. Most of what we have is sent north to feed the armies of Angrääl. I’m one of the lucky ones. As foreman I’m given extra provisions.”
“So the Dark Knight has taken Hazrah,” said Malstisos.
Markus stared down at the table. “He has. And he’s brought misery with him. Of course, they call him the Reborn King and not the Dark Knight.”
“How long ago did his armies arrive?” asked Malstisos.
“Three months ago. But his agents were here long before that. They negotiated our surrender. We didn’t even put up a fight.”
“Why not?” asked Millet. “The King’s army could have held out for years. The city walls have never been breached.”
“I don’t know,” said Markus. “Those kinds of questions land you in prison these days. As far as the King’s army, most have been sent north to Angrääl. Some have returned carrying the banner of our conquerors. It’s like The Dark One is trying to eat the world and we're the appetizer.”
“What of Lady Nal’Thain?” asked Millet. “Is she well?”
“If that’s why you’ve come, you’ve wasted your time,” replied Markus. “No one has seen or heard from the house of Nal’Thain for weeks. The rumor is that the Lady has been sent north, but I don’t know how much truth there is in that.”
Millet lowered his head. “What of her son?”
“I’m afraid that I have no news of Jacob’s whereabouts. There are whispers that he was the one who convinced the King to surrender. After that, he seems to have vanished.”
“I don’t believe it,” cried Millet. “The son of Lee Nal’Thain would not betray his people.”
“I only know what I hear,” said Markus. “Whether there is truth in this... who knows?”
“We must find them,” said Millet. “Can you get us inside the city?”
“I doubt it. They check everyone coming in or out, but I may be able to help. I make monthly production reports to the city clerk and the next one is due in two days. I could try and contact them for you.”
“What about the temples?” asked Maybell. “I could claim to be sent from Baltria. Certainly they wouldn’t stop a priestess.”
“I hate to be the one to tell you this,” said Markus, unable to meet Maybell's eyes. “But the temples have been shut down. They house Angrääl’s soldiers now.”
“What?” she cried. “Foul beasts!”
“I’m sorry,” said Markus. “Worship of the Gods is forbidden now. Most of the priestesses and monks were sent north for re-education a week after the soldiers arrived.”
“I still can’t believe the King has done nothing to stop this!” said Millet.